A Time to Live (Tempus Vivere)
by LittlePageAndBird
Summary: When a very vulnerable River Song turns up on her parents' doorstep with unexpected news, it's the end of a dysfunctional version of normality; but in its place, a new life that two lonely wanderers never dared to hope for begins.
1. Prequel: The Calm Before the Storm

"I just saw a Judoon holding hands with a Zygon! Imagine that! Anything goes here, I like it. I can't really understand how that would physically work, mind you, although I suppose the Zygon could just morph into a Judoon, so really it could work for any species… That's probably not what their main aim was when they developed the ability to shape-shift… Imagine a Zygon being romantic! Imagine a _Judoon_ being romantic! The mind boggles!"

River wished that she could muster the energy to open her eyes just to roll them at her husband. His voice was right in her ear where she lay on her back, meaning that he was far too close for her liking.

She lifted a refreshingly cold cucumber slice from one of her eyes to see him sitting cross-legged next to the massage table, and raised an eyebrow. "Go away."

His brow crinkled. "It's only our first day here and you've already said that seventeen times! I've barely seen you!"

She smirked. "And it's been _perfect_, sweetie."

"It's our anniversary!"  
"So what, I have to spend time with you now?" She snorted, carefully placing the piece of cucumber back over her eye. "No thank you."

"But- isn't that the whole point of this fortnight?"  
"Well, it was. But then I discovered Sebastian." The corner of her mouth curled upwards as she lifted a hand to lazily point at her feet, where an olive-skinned man with a mop of curly black hair and no shirt was busy intensely massaging her ankles. "He's working his way up," she whispered emphatically over the whale music.

He watched the man with his hands currently on his wife with disdain. "I could do that," he muttered scornfully.

"Now, there's something to think about in the Jacuzzi. Sebastian," River drawled. "Would you be a dear and pass me that delicious cocktail?" She lingered on the last word, making sure she put extra emphasis on the first syllable. The disturbingly attractive man pressed a tall glass with a little paper umbrella and sugar around the rim in her lifted hand. "There you are, Miss Song," he purred in, of course, a thick Italian accent.

"Mrs," the Doctor corrected sulkily.

"Professor," she reminded him, taking a sip of the cocktail. It was a vivid shade of pink; he suspected it looked more appetising than it tasted.

She made a low humming sound as she swallowed it, before proceeding to lick the sugar-coated glass rim in what seemed to him like slow motion. "Want some?" she asked casually, as if sensing his increasingly large eyes glued to her.

Assuming with admittedly a slight pang of disappointment that she was talking about the drink, he cleared his throat and mumbled a declination.

"Suit yourself. Aren't there any children's play areas that you could currently be having too much fun in?"

Honestly, he was already having too much fun here with the visual aid that was his wife, but he was hardly going to admit that. "I got thrown out of the last one. Just as well; I almost drowned in that… ball pool…"

She had arched her back to put her drink on the little table behind her. It accentuated very particular parts of her, to say the least, and he believed that she knew it. Even so, he finally lost the ability of speech. Perhaps that was the intention.

The towel covering her had slipped down a little, and she didn't bother adjusting it. "I'm having _so_ much fun here! You do know how to spoil a girl, don't you?"

"He's just using his hands; it's hardly rocket science," he muttered huffily, his chin resting heavily in his hands.

"I meant you, you idiot. Although for the record, hand usage can go a _long_ way."

The Doctor's eyes flickered up to River, ignoring the umpteenth entendre in this exchange.

"Do you really like it?"

"Of course I do," she answered breezily, as if this fact was blatantly obvious, though of course it was far from it to him. A little smile ghosted across her face. "Massages, alcohol and my pretty boy by my side; could things be any better?" Her smirk intensified, telling him the genre of her next words before she spoke them. "And we haven't even got to our room yet."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Um- did I tell you we're in the deluxe honeymoon suite, right on the top floor? Really lovely; it's the only room up there."

"Ah, good; then we won't disturb anyone. Don't want to be getting noise complaints."

"The, um, views are beautiful."

"I saw it in the brochure. King sized bed with silk sheets? I won't be looking at the views, sweetie. And neither will you." She opened an eye just to wink it at him. "Well. You'll have _a_ view, and a nice one at that. But I'll let you take me to dinner first." She grinned at him, admiring the blush along his cheeks.

"The restaurant is lovely here, really amazing, five star," he said quickly, steering the subject away from beds with silk sheets. "Apparently, the food's delicious."

"Actually delicious, or in the way that fish fingers and custard are "delicious"?" River asked dryly.

His eyebrows dipped. "What do you mean?"

She didn't answer, eyes trailing down the ridiculously short towel draped over her. "Well, if we're going to dinner, I suppose I'll have to get dressed. Although, what time is it? We've got a good couple of hours yet. I might spend a while in the private sauna…" Her gaze drifted back up to her husband, a fresh glitter in it. "Care to join me?"

The Doctor shifted on the cool stone floor anxiously. "In- in the, um, in the sauna?" he asked timidly.

"Yes," she drawled slowly. "Although it's pretty warm in there; I'll _probably_ have to remove my clothes. I hope you don't mind," she uttered with a casual lilt and a smirk.

"Or- Or. We could have a look around. Ooh! They have open-top hovercraft tours every hour!" he cried, pulling a leaflet from his jacket pocket and peering at it.

"That sounds _fascinating_."

"Doesn't it?" His grin faded slowly on seeing the look on her face, one so carefully crafted to appear unimpressed that he wondered if she practiced it when she was alone. "Oh."

She smirked at the sulk he lapsed into at her sarcasm. "Tell you what, sweetie; give me another half an hour on my own, and then I'm all yours."

It was too good an offer to resist, so the Doctor did as he was told; although finding something to occupy him for half an hour without slipping into a boredom-induced coma proved rather difficult.

After what felt like an age, a sudden impatient drumming on his shoulder startled him.

"Here you are! You wandered off. You're always wandering off; I should keep you on a leash."

River was by his side in a loose flower-print dress that swished around her knees as she circled him. "Sebastian offered me a free cocktail, so I helped myself to four. Where's this hovercraft, then?"

He caught her arm to keep her upright, admiring the slightly manic look in her eyes with a sparkly smile. "Whoa. We just missed one; the next one isn't for an hour."

"Well, we'll have to find something else!" She was restless next to him, spinning around in half-circles. "What should we do?"

"Um… I'm not sure." The Doctor chewed his lip hopelessly. "I don't think there's much to do at this time of day that you'd enjoy…"

"Well then," she declared suddenly. "Let's go!"

"Where?" he asked quizzically, hopping after her when she danced down the hallway.

"Anywhere!" she sang, spinning on her heel to grin at him before turning back and kicking her heels off to sprint down a corridor.

He frowned as he trotted after her. "But- we haven't even been here a day! We have a room; I had us booked in for-"

"Oh, shut up!" she cried impatiently, taking his hand with a manic grin and dragging him to the cupboard where the Tardis was safely tucked away. "We have the Universe at our fingertips, sweetie; let's go and touch it!"

"How many of those pink sugary drinks did you say you had, River?"

She answered him with no more than a smirk, opening the Tardis doors with a snap of her fingers.

He followed her inside to find her sitting on the controls, swinging her legs restlessly. "Where are you taking me?"

The cocktails had formed a new husky edge to her words that made him pull at his shirt collar before gesturing at the controls. "You choose."

River clapped her hands together excitedly. "Can I?" Not waiting for confirmation, she leapt off the controls and whizzed around them with effortless elegance, flicking levers at dizzying speed.

They landed with a smooth bump moments later. "Voila!" River announced, frolicking to the doors and throwing them open with a bursting grin. They were bathed in a warm glow, making the Doctor shield his eyes as he came to join her.

Her drunken trip ideas had produced mixed results in the past. Some had led them to diamond cliffs and starlight, others to blazing fires and angry mobs; usually the latter. Fortunately, she hadn't consumed quite enough to bring out the perilously daring streak in her; just a little of the well-hidden romantic side.

The view before them trapped his breath in a way that places so rarely did. The glow came from a crimson sun, alone in a rosy sky that faded to indigo at the edges. They were parked atop a grassy mountain; valleys stretching out below them filled with vivid flowers the size of earth trees that swayed in time to the breeze which washed the sweet scent of alien pollen over their noses.

"Is this Mistellia?" he asked, voice irrationally hushed as if frightened to disturb the soothing peace of the planet.

"I've always wanted to go," River explained breathlessly, a red tint along her cheeks. She treaded forwards carefully, her bare feet sinking into the lush grass. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"It is- it's…"

A light thud made him trail off, and he looked down bemusedly to find her lying flat on her back in the grass, looking up at him with a lazy smile; the rosy haze of Mistellia seemed to have calmed her. The light of the red sun glittered in her eyes when she laughed. "You've got that face on again."

He played along, sitting cross-legged next to her and slipping off his jacket. "What face would that be?"

"The, 'She's-Hot-When-She's-Mad!' face."

"You should be used to that face by now," he answered with a wry smile, lying down next to her carefully.

"Because I'm always hot?"

"Because you're always mad."

"I'm not as mad as you." River rolled onto her stomach, biting back a grin and gazing at her husband affectionately. "We never checked where we were," she realised, her chin resting in her hands.

His eyes remained fixed on the coral sky as he talked. "Well, you know we're married; we have been for going on a century from my end. The last time I saw you was… Oria Fentusa, with the frozen waterfall and the snowboards."

"Ah. That was fun." She threw him that smirk again, one that told him just what was running through her head better than if she had spoken it. "That wasn't long ago for me, actually. But I last saw you at… Asgard."

She seemed reluctant to admit it, somewhat understandably. "Oh! That was quite a while ago for me."

"I know." She rolled her eyes to disguise the light that had snuffed out within them, plucking a blade of grass from the earth and running it through her fingers. "God, you were _tiny_. You seemed frightened of me; you sat there stiff as a board looking at me as if I was possessed every time I spoke. It was… funny."

Her voice had dropped, just enough for him to notice despite her attempts to disguise it. His eyes flickered over her anxiously, feeling that familiar ripple of guilt that coursed through him when he was reminded just what it was that he did to her.

"Don't you give me your sad eyes," she warned him. "Don't get me wrong; there are a lot of advantages to running into younger versions of you. You're a lot easier to manipulate," she joked, trying a laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. He wondered how much of all this was to reassure herself. "In any case, a date's a date; even when you're all baby-face, we still always have fun one way or another. And I'm well aware that to see _my_ you…" She lifted a hand to cup the side of his face, almost tenderly. "The backwards timelines are part of the package."

"Don't you ever wish they weren't?" he asked softly, unsure of whether or not he truly wanted to know the answer. But he'd begun to notice that she was just a little more vulnerable now, more trusting because she was finally with the Doctor that knew her; the Doctor he had only recently become.

"Oh, but then we'd be _normal_." She pulled a face. "You know I don't do normal, sweetie."

"You said you didn't do weddings once," he reminded her with a grin. "Maybe you'll change."

"Hmm; somehow, I can't see myself picking up the kids from football practice with the Land Rover in my dungarees. Settling down is not for me." She plucked a flower from the grass, fastening it in her hair with a giggle. "Speaking of which; what about my parents? Have you seen them lately?"

"I have. I took them to Rio the other day, by your mother's request."

"How are they?"

"They're fine. Earth got invaded by little black cubes a few weeks ago, but we sorted it out."

"Oh, they told me about that." She smiled at his bemused frown. "I visit them too, sweetie. You must be happy."

"Why?"

"Because they're not stopping," she said knowingly, her hand slipping to play with his bow tie. "They told me they'd been thinking about it a while ago, but last time I visited they said Brian had convinced them otherwise."

He couldn't help a smug smile flooding his features. "Well. Yes. They still have their house and their jobs, but they decided to keep travelling, for… well, forever."

"I don't blame them. You can't get this in Leadworth." River flipped onto her back, her cheek resting against his shoulder with a contented sigh. "We should go dancing."

He chuckled at her suggestion, marvelling at her unrelenting energy. "Don't _you_ have a house and a job to get back to?"

"Oh, nothing I can't abandon at a moment's notice. Unless you want to get rid of me…"

"Never." He found her hand, letting her twine her fingers through his.

His wife smiled, nudging his shoulder with her nose. "Be careful what you wish for."


	2. The Visitor

**Authors' Note:**

**Hello!**

**Context: within the Whoniverse, this is set after the Power of Three (S7a, Ep4).**

**Disclaimer: Everything in the entirety of the Cosmos belongs to the BBC and Mr Steven Moffat, with the exception of our OCs.**

**Warning: Rated T for occasional strong language, sex references (nothing graphic) and infrequent use of dark themes.**

**Finally, we can only hope that this story gives you as much pleasure to read as it has given us to write. Please enjoy and let us know what you think.**

* * *

It all started on a rainy morning in April, with a visitor on the doorstep of a little blue house.

"Rory! Get the door!"

Rory Williams pushed his fluffy hair out of his half-closed eyes, checking his watch with a frown. Why his wife couldn't get the door when she was already up writing an article was beyond him, but he daren't have argued with her.

"Half past _five_… he's getting worse."

He had warned his dad about this, several times. Since the invasion of the cubes, he'd got worse; last week, a pebble he'd found at the beach was a miniaturised spaceship. The week before that, the lady in the dry cleaner's was an alien imposter.

"Dad, do you have any idea what- time…"

It was not his father standing on the doorstep. Rory regarded the visitor in bemused surprise, alarm bells pinging in his head.

"Hello, Dad."

He knew straight away that something wasn't right. He regarded the woman in front of him: make-up free; hair scraped back in a bun; dressed in a too-big black jumper and jeans and, of all things, flat shoes; and a bubble of anxiety popped inside him. This was not the daughter he knew at all. She wasn't even smiling.

"River," he said softly, tilting his sleepy head to the side. "Hello. Um… bit early for a visit, isn't it?"

Her eyebrows pinched together, making creases in her forehead. He had never noticed them before. "Is it? Oh, I'm sorry, I just… I…"

River chewed her lip, studying the doorframe intensely. She had an ashen tint to her skin that made her look as if she wasn't quite alive. She took a deep breath. "Can I come in? I just- have- I have to… um…"

She was rambling more than her other half usually did, which was saying an awful lot. Knowing only that he couldn't turn her away like this, Rory pulled the door back. "Come on. I'll make us some tea."

His daughter shuffled into the hallway, arms folded tightly. She shook her head at Rory's invitation to take off her coat, mouth set in a thin line. Under the hallway light, he could see the shadows pooling under her eyes, the redness of the rims. "River… is everything alright? Just, you don't seem… yourself-"

"River!"

Her mother's cry lifted her head, although the most it drew was a feeble excuse for a smile. "Hi, Mum."

Amy skipped over, enveloping her in a warm hug. Seeing Rory's face over her shoulder, she pulled back to regard her daughter at arms' length, and he saw concern seep into her features. "God, are you ok?"

"Um…" River dropped her hands to twine her fingers together restlessly, chewing her lip and refusing to look at either of them. Amy looked at her husband helplessly, clearly as worried that River seemed to have left her soul behind as much as he was. "Actually, I'm- I'm… not."

She suddenly drew in breath, making them jump. In the same moment tears cascaded down her face and she pressed her eyes shut in defeat. "I'm sorry, I'm just- I haven't been able to sleep, and I- I'm so- exhausted, and- scared, and-"

"Oh, River, it's ok," Amy soothed, wrapping her arms around her daughter as if she had for the first time reverted back into a little girl. Shockingly morbid answers flashed through Rory's head; he knew that it had to be something bad, whatever was causing River to be like this. "Come on. Come and sit down, eh? We'll get you a drink."

She gave in, letting Amy guide her to the dining table where she sank down into a seat as if she had been standing for days. Rory busied himself with tea as he listened to his wife attempting to console their daughter.

"What's the matter, hmm?" There was no answer, except for a weak sob. He sensed the thin smile in Amy's words. "I'm guessing this has something to do with the Doctor, yeah?"

"You _can't _tell him!"

River's sudden cry startled them both. Amy was frowning perplexedly at her daughter when Rory brought the tea over. "River, what do you mean? What has he done? Is it a spoiler?"

River's sigh was a blend of impatience and guilt. "No, it's… you just can't, Mum. Promise me."

"Well, you'll have to tell me what's wrong first-"

"No, I need you to promise me now! I came here to tell you because- I have to tell someone, because- I'm not ok, I'm not… and I trust you, to help me, and I am _trusting_ you, not to tell him. What I'm about to say, swear to me that you will never, ever breathe a single word of it to the Doctor."

Amy and Rory exchanged glances. "River, what's happened?" Rory asked gravely. "We've never seen you like this."

Amy's hand enclosed over River's. "Listen to me, Melody. Whatever it is, we will help you, and we'll be here for you, ok? You're going to be just fine." She took a deep breath. "And… we won't say anything to the Doctor; no matter what. Cross my heart," she smiled.

"You have to mean it, because… he can't _ever_ know," River mumbled through ceaseless tears.

"Ok. If that's what you want, then we'll do anything to help you, alright? But we can't help you… unless you tell us what's getting you so upset."

Rory watched his wife in admiration, in love with the mothering side of her that she very rarely had a chance to express. He had a feeling that she was going to need it a lot over the coming weeks, or even months. It appeared that something had broken their daughter.

"The thing is…"

She didn't seem to breathe for several seconds, concentrating so intensely on her hands that Rory thought they might spontaneously combust. "I'm pregnant."

The words hit them like a pillowcase full of bricks. In hindsight, they weren't entirely proud of their reaction. "What?" Amy squawked. "You're, you're… how?"

Rory cringed at her. "Is that really a question you want answered?"

"No, I mean, I… is it…" Amy swallowed. "Is it… the Doctor's?"

River's eyebrows dipped, and she nodded as she blinked back fresh tears. "He's the only…" She trailed off, swallowing as her eyes resumed contact with the dining table.

"But- I- I didn't think…" Amy puffed out her cheeks, pulling a bit of a face. "I didn't… _know_ that he… I mean, he gets uncomfortable when a girl comes within five feet of him-"

"Really, is that the part you're going to freak out at, Mother?! You do realise you're going to be a grandparent to a _Time Lord_?!"

"I'm sorry, I just… oh, River," Amy sighed, coming around to her daughter's side of the dining table when she burst into tears. "River, I'm sorry. It's going to be ok!"

"No it _isn't_!"

"I didn't think it would be… possible, for you two to… with you being different species," Rory remarked pensively.

"Neither did I!" she cried, leaning against her mother. "I never thought this would happen, and- I just don't know what to do…"

"You're going to be alright, Melody," Amy soothed. "We'll look after you." She threw Rory a helpless glance over the top of her daughter's head.

"You can't tell him."

"I won't. I won't… but… why?"

River lifted her head with a scoff. "Have you met him? Do you honestly think he'll want this?"

"So- what, you're just going to avoid him, the man you love more than anything else in the whole Universe, for the rest of your life?" Amy asked gently. Her words made yet more tears spill over the rims of River's eyes.

"I have to, Mum. He wouldn't want to know me if he knew about this, and- I'd rather… preserve the time that I had with him, remember things the way they used to be, rather than have things end so horribly."

"But how do you know they would end horribly?" Rory asked. "I don't know, he might come around to it- he's quite good with kids-"

"He's the man without ties, Dad. That's just who he is. He's too afraid of getting hurt to be anything else."

"But he has ties. He had us, and- you, probably most importantly. He married you-"

"In an aborted timeline in a non-existent universe inside a robot; you tell me how genuine our "marriage" is," she snapped wearily. "Listen to me. It's my decision not to tell him about this, and I know I'm putting you in- an awful position, but you can't change my mind. I just want… I want somebody to be there for me, and- you're all I have."

Amy rubbed her back soothingly, head ringing from shock but attempting to place herself in her daughter's shoes to calm down; however difficult this was to get her head around, she wasn't the one with an unwanted baby growing inside her. "River… why don't you stay with us?" she asked softly.

She saw a flicker of light in River's eyes beneath the shimmer of tears. "Oh, I… I don't want to impose-"

"You wouldn't be imposing," Rory jumped in. "You're our daughter, and… you shouldn't be alone right now."

"Thank you… but-" She swallowed. "He's going to be coming here, to pick you up."

"Well, we'll just have to hide you." Amy gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Unbeknown to herself, River wasn't hiding; she was running. And there was no way in hell that she could do it forever.


	3. A Husband's Concern

**~ The Ponds' living room; River has been staying with her parents for about a month at this point. The Doctor, having dropped by for a surprise visit, is aware that there is something wrong with his wife, but as of yet blissfully unaware of just what it is. ~**

* * *

"I'm going to find out," the Doctor said determinedly.

Amy raised an eyebrow, squashing down the bubble of panic in her throat. "Are you now?"

"Yes. I'm going to investigate. Like a detective. Ooh! Like Sherlock… no, not like Sherlock." He shuddered.

Amy regarded him with a frown. "Sherlock, as in… Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes. What other Sherlock do you know?"

"The detective- the _fictional_ detective…?"

He paused for a moment. "Um… yes… Ooh! You could help me!"

"No."

"Amy! Come on; you could be… my John Watson! Yes."

"I'm not going to do role-playing games with you, Doctor. That's what River's for." She shuddered, pulling a face. "Forget I said that."

He looked slightly perturbed. "I will… anyway, um- forget the role-play, just- try to find out what's the matter with her. Please."

"What makes you think anything's the matter with her?"

"Have you seen her, Amy? You know her as well as I do; she's not herself."

"Well, maybe she's just changed! She is a Professor now!"

"I know." His face seemed to cloud over a little. "But she never changes. You know we meet in the wrong order, but she's always the _same_. She's always… River," he finished with an affectionate lilt to his voice.

"Well, maybe you're finally in the right order," Amy barked, putting a little too much concentration into cutting the chicken.

He didn't answer, tracing little shapes into the bench. "It's strange. Apparently, we both had the same last date; Mistellia."

Amy had to tell her eyebrows not to shoot up. "Oh… did you do anything… interesting, there?"

"Uh, not really- she just stayed with me for a couple of days, and then I dropped her off at her flat- I'm assuming she came here not long afterwards. Did she say anything to you, when she turned up?"

Amy's throat grew scratchy. "No, she didn't say anything."

"We're never in the right order like that. We never meet up, having both seen each other last in the same place. It's almost like… she planned this."

"Doctor, it's just coincidence, ok? I mean- it's probably just coincidence."

"Then why did she ask me, as if she knew? As if it was so important?" he insisted.

"I don't _know_. Stop asking!"

He agreed begrudgingly, but Amy couldn't quash the sickness in the pit of her stomach that came with thinking of her daughter's secret being discovered. A mother's instinct; so rare sensation in her yet never wrong.


	4. Revelations and Running

**~Later that night; the kitchen in the Pond house, where Amy gives her daughter a warning. But secrets are about to unravel. ~**

* * *

Amy almost didn't want to tell her. Then again, there was a guilty yet irrepressible sensation of wanting the secrets between the people she held so dearly to be over. "He knows something's wrong with you."

She watched the colour drain from her daughter's face. "What? What do you mean?" River asked, suddenly panicked.

"Well, you haven't been yourself, and he's sort of making it his life's work to find out why."

River held a hand to her head. "Oh, god… I can't even pretend anymore! I'm supposed to be good at hiding the damage! What am I going to do?"

"Well," Rory piped up in a whisper, "it's going to be pretty hard to hide the, uh, 'damage' in a few months."

"River, he's going to find out at some stage; it's just a question of how long you can hide it. I mean, even if we can convince him to leave now, the next time you see him you'll probably have a bump or maybe even a baby. You can't run away forever."

She had never felt more like their child than she did in this moment. "But what if I can? I'm a time traveller; who says I can't just keep moving and moving, with my baby, and-"

"What- and just avoid him for the rest of your life? River… that's not fair," she said cautiously.

"How isn't it fair?"

"It's his baby, too."

"Oh, do you honestly think he'll want anything to do with it?" she snapped bitterly, tears glistening in the rims of her eyes. "For gods' sake, you're his best friend; you can't stand there and tell me that there's any way he would _ever_ want to raise a child! I have to do this on my own- I've always known that, and it's sad, but nothing you can say is going to change our lives, _his_ life. It would never, ever work, and I'm just telling you exactly what he would tell me, right before he gets into his little blue box and flies away. You _know_ he will."

When they didn't answer, because they couldn't argue with what they knew was the truth, River sighed wearily. "Maybe I should go now."

"No- River, you don't have to do this-"

"Yes, I do. Because he's going to keep coming here, and you're right; I can't hide forever, not here. It'll be better for me, and the baby, if I just move away, somewhere- way across the Universe."

"But he'll come looking for you-"

She shook her head. "He won't. Not for long; he has to give up one day. He probably won't even notice, with us being in the wrong bloody order."

"River," Amy implored quietly, taking hold of her daughter's hand. "Melody; I know you're scared, but running isn't going to fix this. Please, please tell him. You have to."

"Sometimes, running is the only way you can survive. Believe me, I know." She prised her hand away. "I can't tell him. I just can't. Because I know what he'll say, what he'll do; and… I'm not strong enough to watch him leave me."

"So that's it? You'd rather run away yourself than allow the possibility of him running?"

"Either way, I'm going to lose him."

"You might not, if you don't run- you might as well take that risk-"

"And what am I supposed to say, Mum?" she asked, her voice swelling into a shout. "Tell me what I say to him, the man who's travelled the Universe with no ties for centuries! There's no _point_. We both know exactly what he'd do if he knew that the woman he runs across time and space with is carrying his baby! It would just be a big disappointment! I don't _want_ to run away, but I have to. Please, try to understand that."

Her parents were uncharacteristically silent; she thought she'd finally won, for a precious second, and the closest thing to relief she had felt in weeks came to her. They were two of the three people she loved most in the world, after all; arguing with them was never fun, especially when they were just trying to be helpful. It would be hard beyond description to leave them behind.

That second, of course, didn't last; she soon realised something that made her heart plummet into her stomach. Their eyes were not on her.

More specifically, they were staring rather morbidly at something over her shoulder.

To say she was afraid to turn around would have been an understatement. She felt her blood run cold when an all too familiar voice whispered her name.

Her feet were turning her around before she could stop them, almost in denial; almost not believing that she'd find him there.

Breath drained from her lungs as well as the room when her eyes fell on his face. Even her parents were silent as they regarded each other from across the kitchen, an eternity of hush between them.

It was a battle of who was going to break the stillness first; she won. The Doctor swallowed as if he was drinking glass shards, taking a tiny step closer to her across the abyss.

She held out a hand to stop him instinctively, more out of shock than anything else that he wasn't turned on his heel and on his way out already. Aware of the sharp stab in her heart each time she drew breath, the sensation of drowning in open air- something that had plagued her since early days of a tortured childhood- she had to press her eyes shut to reassure herself that she was not going to die.

He recognised the symptoms, despite everything. "River-"

"No." She held a hand to her forehead before shaking it abruptly, a heavy sob shattering the silence. "I can't…"

She couldn't even do what she always could, and lie her away out of it; therefore, she did the only thing left available to her. Ignoring all the rules he had taught her, she was scared, so she ran.

She pushed past him, getting out of the front door and slamming it shut before he could follow her and disappeared into the bitter night, the sound of her footfalls drowned by the hammering rain.

The Doctor almost fell over when River collided with him on her way out, his head numb and ringing with the words he had just heard her say. Putting most of his energy into remaining upright, his head shook slowly as he gazed at his best friends.

"Doctor," Amy whispered, eyes blazing and voice surprisingly firm. "Go after her."


	5. Finding Lost Faith

**~ The Doctor does as his best friend tells him to, running out into the rain after his broken wife. Having been looking for hours, he finally comes across a lost soul at the local park. ~**

* * *

The Doctor was on the very brink of despair, and was just beginning to contemplate going back to the Ponds' and very possibly crying until his eyes fell out when a tiny shadow of a figure caught his eye up ahead.

He was surprised he even noticed her, really; she was on her knees, head bowed and buried in her hands so that she was barely recognisable as a human being let alone as herself. The location was rather odd- the epicentre of a park that he imagined was quite pretty when the sun was shining and darkness wasn't devouring it- but he supposed she didn't possess the most logical of minds today.

Taking a deep breath, taking a moment to stand in the freezing rain, he eventually made his way to River.

She almost recoiled when he sank down into the mud at her side, breath finding her in short gasps. He knew the panicked look in her eyes, and wished he had found her sooner.  
He whispered her name comfortingly, praying that she wouldn't run again; although, he assumed she was too exhausted to do so.

"You- shouldn't have- come after me," she choked after minutes of heavy silence.

"I'm always going to come after you," he answered placidly, the rain beating against his skin.

It terrified him, the way she was; a ghost of the woman he had come to know so well. It sickened him that it was his fault.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked gently.

"I didn't want to lose you," she mumbled, in a voice so thick with tears that he barely recognised it. "I suppose it doesn't matter now."

He shook his head, wishing that words would find him. All the nonsensical rambles, anecdotes and grand speeches came to nothing. He was bitterly disappointed in himself for that, for not being there for her after all her years by his side.

"I don't expect you to… to…" He had never seen her like this before; it was slightly frightening him, seeing someone he knew so well behaving so much like someone he didn't.

She could barely finish her own sentences for the sobs that kept catching in her throat. "…To stay. I mean… with…"

Her eyes were fixed on her hands, clasped limply in her lap. She looked tiny like this; he wondered how long she had been this way.

"You don't have to…" She trailed off, shaking her head with a whimper. After that, she gave up trying to speak, burying her head in her hands.

He couldn't stand to watch her like this, but wasn't sure quite what he was supposed to say. He had never been in this situation before. He had never been in a situation anything _like_ this before.

He stretched out a hand in comfort, but let it fall uselessly to his side before it reached her. She didn't notice. "River," he whispered. "Are you ok?"

"Yes. Yeah," she muttered quickly, scrubbing her face dry too roughly, so under her eyes turned red in garish contrast to the rest of her chalk-white skin. "I'm fine."

Still trying to lie, despite being so utterly broken that he marvelled at the fact she hadn't just dissolved in the rain.

"River, it's ok," he said quietly.

"You can't be serious," she scoffed bitterly. "Nothing about this is ok. I know you, and I know that this is the last thing in the Universe you'd ever want; and that makes two of us. It's not like there's anything I can do anyway- giving a Time Lord baby up for adoption, god knows what would happen if it ended up in the wrong hands, and it'll just heal itself with regeneration energy if I try abortion, so I'm stuck." She looked up at him with a teary glare. "I have to live with this, Doctor; just think yourself lucky that you don't."

He looked away, blinking back stung tears. "Do you want me to go?"

She shrugged. "There's no point in convincing you otherwise, is there? I know you don't want to be here. You might as well take this chance to run."

"What makes you think I don't want to be here?" he whispered, receiving no answer.

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, for one of the first times in her life. He wanted to tell her that he was shocked, yes, and scared too, but he didn't want to run. He didn't even want to leave her side, especially after seeing her like this. He wanted to tell her all of that, but knew that it would do no good. She would never believe him; all of her faith in him, if she'd ever had any, seemed to have diminished.

"I can… stay, if you want me to," he said hesitantly.

He ached to stay, but not if she didn't want him. Maybe she wanted her own life, at last.

Her eyes flickered up for a moment, but she still wouldn't speak. This was extraordinarily difficult. It was hard enough to know what she wanted when she was vocal and non-pregnant.

"Say something," he implored quietly.

"What am I supposed to say?" she shrugged. "This is it, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "Doctor, I won't be able to travel- I can't- save the Universe, or help you, or do _anything_; I- I won't even be River Song anymore!"

She sounded angry with herself. He shuffled a tiny bit closer to her through the mud, sincerely hoping that he wasn't going to end up making things worse as he so often did.

"The thing is," he started quietly, being careful with his words, "River Song is a lot of things. She's… brave, and clever, and kind, and… beautiful. And she's a lot of things to me, too. She's the woman who married me. And she'll always be that, no matter where she is, or what she's doing. And I'd like to stay with her, if she'll have me, because I happen to be rather fond of her."

She gazed at him, tears rolling down her nose to mix with the rainwater. He smiled apprehensively, hoping with all his hearts that he was on the way to making her better. "You'll always, always be River Song to me."

She shook her head slowly. "Please don't do this."

His face fell as yet more tears welled in her eyes. He wondered if they'd ever stop. "Do what?"

"What you always do. Make all these promises… make- long poetic speeches with those big sad eyes, just before you leave because you hate endings and because to you it's better to give false hope than none at all. You can't do that to me!"

He shook his head. "That's not what I'm doing."

"Isn't it?"

He wondered what had made her like this; had she simply worked up the concept that he was going to leave her for so long that she refused to allow any other possibilities to be heard? He couldn't think of a time when he had let her down, other than the odd missed date and, well, the whole backwards timelines situation- but despite that, despite their horribly messed up lives, he had really tried for her. He had tried to be there whenever she needed him, tried to compensate for his younger self's encounters with her by showing up soon afterwards to apologise and put things right; it was usually possible- except, of course, for the first meeting.

One of his favourites had been turning up at Stormcage in her timeline just after his younger self had left her there, dropping her off from Nixon's office in 1969. Only in hindsight could he realise what he'd put her through then: making her look for a lost little girl who she knew all too well, taking her to orphanages, bringing her face to face with the Silence, seeing him killed- again. And then there was that kiss. That confused first-and-last kiss that had excited and terrified him in equal measure, one of the first clues as to who she'd end up becoming to him. Realising many years later and having made her his wife how much that kiss must have hurt, he had returned to Stormcage on the same night- he made sure he got the dates exact- and proved to her that though it may have been the first kiss for him, it was certainly not the last kiss for her.

He had done that for her, just to make her smile. It was one of many things, many days, but she seemed to have forgotten about all of that. She seemed to have forgotten how much he cared about her.

"River, I won't let you be alone; if you want me to stay with you, all you have to do is ask."

It sounded ridiculous, really, having to ask his own wife's permission just to remain by her side. But then, they had never been an ordinary couple. Perhaps one day they'd reach a stage where he wouldn't have to ask, because she'd no longer feel she had to hide. That was the hope.

She shook her head limply, that typical stubbornness sticking.

"Tell me what you want."

River looked away into the darkness with a heavy sob, looking utterly lost. "What do I say?"

"You don't have to say anything," he said kindly. She looked as if she was going to dissolve in the rain, and he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to protect her swelling in his hearts.

He reached through the rain to cup her face in his hands, believing that she needed somebody to hold her. "Tell you what; I'm going to ask you something, River, and when I do, if your answer is yes… all you have to do is nod your head. Ok? Can you do that?"

She would only stare at him in response, so he decided to give it a go; he sincerely hoped that it was going to work, considering how much was riding on it.

"Do you want me here, River?"

She paused for so long that the sound of the rain seemed to intensify, a crescendo above their heads. After what felt like an age, she gave the tiniest nod of her head and his blood flowed once again. He suddenly found himself no longer caring about the cold, close enough to rest his head against hers for a tender second in gratitude.

She was shivering so terribly, her knees caked in mud and her make-up running in thick streaks down her face.

"We have to get you back," he realised, gently placing his hands on her elbows to help her to her feet. "You'll catch your death out here."

She tried to pull away; there wasn't much strength in it. He supposed she was exhausted. "No," she mumbled thickly, shaking her head. "I can't go there, I have to go-"

"Go where?" he asked.

She looked completely lost; it was something that would stay with him, seeing her like this, this night. He had to make things right; it was his fault that she was out here. It was his fault that she bore that look in her eyes.

Slipping his coat off to drape it around her shoulders, he took hold of her hand. "Come on, River. Let me take you home."

They had been out for well over three hours, apparently; Amy and Rory came running to the door the second they heard it open, finding the Doctor and River, shivering and drenched, limping into the hallway.

"Oh my god!" Amy exclaimed, running forwards to place her hands on River's arms. "Are you alright? Where did you go?"

She didn't answer, as if the cold had frozen her. The Doctor nudged her gently out of her reverie. "You should go and dry yourself off," he instructed softly. She obeyed with a limp nod, ambling up the stairs without another word.

"Doctor-" Amy started.

"Do you have a towel, please?" he asked, sudden violent shivers shaking him; apparently, he had been trying to be brave for his wife, and in the process disguising the fact that he was on the verge of developing hypothermia.

"Yeah, um…" Amy ran to the downstairs cupboard, handing him a towel when she found one which he draped over his head like a cloak. "Doctor, what happened, what did she say?"

He rubbed his dripping hair with the towel. "It's freezing out there. What month is it?"

"It's May, Doctor, what did she-"

"Blimey, it's cold for May. Although I suppose it is the middle of the night."

She could hear the tremor in his voice, the one that hadn't surfaced due to the cold. "Doctor, please. I've been so worried about her, is she alright?"

His distracted eyes floated to the stairs, and he handed her the towel absent-mindedly. "I'll, um, go and see if she is…"

"Doctor, wait!"

Amy's hand on his arm stopped him on the first step. He turned wearily to face her, seeing that she looked just as worried as he felt. "Is everything… ok, with you two, did you… are you staying with her?"

He sighed. When had everyone's opinion of him become so low that they couldn't even trust him to stay with his own family? "I'll talk to you later," he said quietly from the first step, glancing up at the ceiling. "She needs me."

When the Doctor crept into the spare room, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed looking somewhat improved; she was in pyjamas and a dressing-gown, her hair towelled dry so that it was abnormally fluffy.

He came to perch next to her, wondering how many times in the next few months he was going to ask the question he was about to. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm… yeah."

"You should get some sleep," he suggested gently.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were like they had been in the kitchen when she had turned around. He sensed, somehow, that this was not nearly the last time he would see those eyes.

"I… I won't go anywhere," he assured her with a soft smile. "I promise."

She bit her lip, looking down at her clasped hands. "You can, if you want to. I wouldn't blame you. Just… please... wait until I'm asleep, because I think I'd rather- not know, if-"

"River," he interjected, hearing the increasing tremor in her voice. He placed his hand over hers, stopping them from fidgeting restlessly. "I mean it. I'll see you in the morning, ok?"

"Ok."

He leaned over to press a kiss to her temple, letting it linger for a moment before he reluctantly left her on her own.

When he came downstairs, Amy was waiting for him with worry etched into her features.

"Hey."

"Hey. How is she?"

"She's fine. Warmer and drier, which is good," he murmured, coming to stand next to her and wringing his hands anxiously. "Amy… when did she tell you?" he asked softly, meeting her eyes in the gloom of the hallway.

"About, uh… a month ago," she mumbled.

He sighed wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"She made us promise not to say anything…"

"No, I know. It's ok."

"Is she alright? I mean, like you said, she hasn't been herself, since…"

"I think she's just scared. She'll be fine." He frowned. "She thought I was going to leave her."

"Well, to be fair to her… you have done that before. To… quite a lot of people," Amy reminded him gently.

"Not to her; never to her."

"Did you tell her that?"

He nodded. "I don't know if she believed me," he added in a tiny voice. "Would it be ok if I… stayed here, for a bit?"

Amy smiled. "Stay as long as you want."

That night was the first she'd been able to sleep in weeks; knowing her daughter was in the safest hands.


	6. Miracle

**~ The next morning; Amy and Rory's breakfast is disturbed by their paranoid daughter. ~**

* * *

The sound of hurried footsteps made the Ponds look up, and second later River was in the kitchen doorway, looking around with frantic eyes.

"Have you seen him?" she asked, out of breath.

"Um, no, not this morning," Amy admitted. "Is he not on the Wii or something?"

"No!" she exclaimed, her voice suddenly swelling. "I've checked the whole house, Mum, he's not _here_, where is he?" she yelled tearfully. Amy and Rory exchanged fearful glances as she staggered over to the dining table, sinking down into a chair.

"River, he's probably just in the Tardis-"

"The Tardis is _gone_!" she cried. "He's left! He's not here!"

"Oh, god," Amy whispered, holding a hand to her mouth when she looked out of the window and saw a space where the Tardis had been last night. Rory glared at the space, mouth set in a thin line. "I didn't even hear the engines…"

"He must have put them on silent so I wouldn't know! Oh, he's not here!" River repeated in a mumble, burying her head in her hands. "I knew it!" she sobbed. "I knew it. I knew he would do this…"

The click of the back door startled them all. River lifted her heavy head out of her hands, just in time to see the Doctor frolic into the kitchen.  
"Morning!" he chirped, sauntering over to the cupboard to pull out a packet of Jammie Dodgers. His little smile faded when he spun around to find three pairs of wide eyes on him. "Was it something I said?" he asked with a frown. "Can't have been; I only said morning…"

"Where the hell did you go?" River asked icily. He almost flinched at her tone, placing the Jammie Dodgers down carefully.

"I was just watering the plants; they said they were thirsty… I speak tulip…"

"Well- where's the Tardis?" she asked, her voice unnaturally high.

"I moved it to the back yard," he said casually, with a little nervous laugh. "If I'm going to be staying, I have to put it somewhere acceptable. We don't want the neighbours asking why there's a big blue box parked on the pavement, and I don't want it towed, that's happened before-"

"Why didn't I hear it?"

"I put the engines on silent; didn't want to wake you."

He smiled, but it was lost on her. With an exasperated sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving him yet again wondering what he had done wrong.

Only really knowing one way to fix it, he got a teabag and her favourite mug out of the cupboard.

He startled River by putting the mug down rather loudly on the coffee table in front of her; this much was evident, by the intense scowl she gave him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, taking a step back and clasping his hands together. "Um- is everything ok?"

"Fine," she said in a sigh, her eyes drifting back to the TV and becoming fixed there.

"Ok." He perched next to her on the sofa; something he felt was a somewhat brave move. There were a good few seconds of tense silence, before he spoke carefully, in a voice even meeker than usual. "I told you I wasn't going to leave-"

"Shut up," she snapped shortly, not looking away from Jeremy Kyle.

"But-"

"Doctor!" she yelled suddenly, scaring him into silence.

He twirled his thumbs, feeling more than a little useless. "Do you want anything?"

"I want you to go away."

He stood up with a little defeated sigh. "Ok."

As if realising what she had just said, her head suddenly snapped up. He saw the fear in her eyes. "I'll be in the kitchen," he said softly. "Enjoy your tea."

Once both of her parents had shouted goodbye to her and left for work- each one coming in to utter urgent whispers of the Are-You-Ok and Will-You-Be-Ok-For-The-Foreseeable-Future and You-Should-Talk-To-Him-He's-Worried-About-You variety- she wandered into the kitchen with a deep breath to do something that she never did.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, turning her head in his general direction from where she had come to sit at the dining table but refusing to look straight at him for the sickening nerves that rose in her throat.

He turned away from the sink and towards her, which didn't do good things for her rapidly increasing pulse. "I mean, for being- for shouting at you, I'm just- it's been a tough few weeks, you know…"

He was tiptoeing over to take a seat opposite her. She sensed a conversation brewing, which made her feel slightly sick.

"Don't worry. I don't mind you shouting," he said with a small smile. "Um… how are you feeling, after last night? Did you- catch a cold or anything, because I have some medicine in the-"

"No. I'm fine, I think; just tired."

"Couldn't you sleep?"

"Not really. A lot on my mind," she explained, studying each of her fingernails in intense detail.

He nodded understandingly. She wondered what he'd done all night, as he rarely slept. He'd probably gone back to the Tardis to read every pregnancy book under every sun. "Thank you, for… staying," she said quietly, without looking up.

"I told you I would," he reminded her softly.

"I don't want you to feel like you… have to, or… you owe me, or… feel sorry for me…"

She was aware that she was just a rambling ball of insecurities, but it was something that she couldn't really switch off. She'd always thought if by some miracle he didn't run, it wouldn't be for the reasons that she so wanted it to be.

She sensed him shaking his head. "I want to stay, River."

River didn't even know what to do with those words, having never thought she'd hear them. She smiled so weakly that even she barely noticed it, and a little silence ensued. She could hear birdsong outside.

"So… do you know how, um, how far gone you are?"

Ah, there it was; the elephant in the room had finally revealed itself. She'd been wondering how long they were going to dance around it; still, the thought of talking about it to him made her feel slightly dizzy.

"Yeah, um… nine weeks," she answered in a tiny voice.

She heard him exhale slowly under his breath, and for the umpteenth time felt waves of guilt rattling through her. "You'll be getting a bump soon," he remarked softly. She felt her heart constrict.

"I suppose I will." Her eyes flickered up just in time to see a smile ghost across his face.

"How did you find out?"

"I, um, scanned myself with the PDA; I was about two weeks late, and I thought I'd just check, more to- put my mind at rest, than anything else. I didn't think I would be…" She ran a hand through her un-brushed hair. "God, I must have cried for about seven hours. It took me days of just- sitting in my flat to even get my head around it."

"And then you came here."

"Yeah…" She frowned at her hands, wondering whether or not she'd imagined the way his voice had seemed to tighten, and sucked breath in through her teeth. "Doctor… I… I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

He opened his mouth to answer, to tell her that it was more than ok, but she wasn't looking at him. "I know it's your baby too and you deserve to know, and to- to be a part of- of this, if that's what you want, but I- I was just scared, that-"

"Hey. I know." He dragged his chair around to her side of the table, offering his hands for her to take hold of. "You don't have to be sorry for anything, River. You're alright- you're both alright. That's what's important. As long as you know that you have no reason to be scared. I'm staying right here, ok?"

She shook her head slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands. "Thank you. I didn't think you'd… want to be with me, if I told you."

"Why did you think that?"

"I don't know. I don't know why…" She took one of her hands away to press it to her forehead. "I feel so _stupid_ now…"

"River, don't do this. I understand; I only wish you'd told me sooner because I hate the thought of you spending all this time afraid. But now everything's ok."

Her fingers curled around his tightly, seeking comfort. "Your definition of ok involves having a baby?"

"Well… it's hardly a bad thing, is it?"

"Isn't it?"

She glanced up, so that her eyes fell into his. The words she had uttered through heavy sobs at the park came back to him, and he couldn't quite disguise the concern that crossed his features.

River noticed it, whilst thinking exactly the same thing. "I never thought you'd be more ok with this than I am," she said quietly, a tiny melancholy smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Give it time," he said gently. "You've never done this before, and it's only been a few weeks since you found out."

"You found out yesterday. Aren't you…?"

"Terrified?"

"Well- yeah."

He smiled. "I am. But it's a good kind of terrified. And I'm lots of other things, too."

"Like what?"

"Well… it's exciting, isn't it?"

She snorted softly. "I'm not sure I'd go that far."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You know… this shouldn't have been possible, for us. I didn't think it was. And after all these years… you could say it's… a miracle."

River's eyes swam with tears when she found the strength to look up once again. "Is that really how you see this?"

"Yes," he answered sincerely. "It'll be the first Gallifreyan child born in centuries. There are civilisations out there who pray for this. And, well, it's a _Pond_." He grinned nervously. "My baby's going to be a Pond. It's going to be half you, River. I think that's rather wonderful."

He sensed that he was going to have to get used to making his wife cry.


	7. The Calm and the Restless

****~ A few days later; the Doctor has stayed with River and the Ponds (coolest band name ever) thus far, giving his wife space when she needs it and being there when she needs ******that, too. One morning, he puts her mind at rest and answers her questions concerning the concept of conception. ~**

* * *

River found her husband on the sofa, absorbed in one of Amy's Woman and Home magazines as if they weren't having a baby at all.

She wasn't sure quite what she had expected; he was hardly going to spend all day talking about nurseries and listening to her stomach when she was still in her first trimester. And if the whole concept of being a parent was occupying his thoughts as much as it was hers, then he wasn't showing it.

Then again, she had slept for the majority of the last three days. Perhaps all she was seeing were rare moments of calm in him.

She'd asked her parents if there had been indications, to no avail. Apparently if this was a façade, he was keeping it up in front of everyone and not just her.

He threw her a wan smile when she perched next to him. "Hey. Do you need anything?"

"No, thanks," she mumbled. She couldn't help thinking that maybe he was simply fulfilling his promise. He was the Doctor, after all; it was his job to help people, no matter how little he wanted to-

"River… you ok?"

His voice startled her. "Yeah, why?" she asked quickly.

"Just… you were sort of… staring at me."

"Sorry." She stuck her thumbnail between her teeth, feeling her cheeks growing red. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened to her. Was she supposed to be more like him? She assumed that when most people were expecting they didn't spend all day this restless and, well, terrified. But she wasn't most people.

Neither was the Doctor. If somebody had told her that the time he'd be most normal would be when she was having their child, she'd have laughed in their face. She'd have laughed in their face if somebody had told her she'd have their child- even _a_ child- she'd never planned, never… wanted-

"You're still doing it."

"What?"  
"Staring… it's fine, but you've been looking like you're about to say something for about three minutes."

He smiled at her. How could he be smiling? Was it genuine? She wished she could tell when he was playing pretend.

"I'm just…" She trailed off, puffing out her cheeks and running her thumb along her bottom lip restlessly.

"You're just what?"

"Nothing."

He watched her with raised eyebrows as she drummed her fingertips together, crossed her legs, uncrossed them, leaned forwards to straighten the magazines on the table, sat back, looked up at the ceiling, counted the number of purple squares in the living-room rug, aligned the remote controls in order of size, adjusted the magazines again, swivelled the cups of tea around so that the handles pointed outwards-

"River, you're making me dizzy."

"Well- I just- look, you fidget _all_ the time, so- so- shut up!"

She flopped back dramatically, picking at her fingernails in a sulk. "Are you sure you're ok?" the Doctor asked. "If there's something you want to talk about-"

"Something I want to talk about?" she echoed incredulously. "You mean like the fact that I'm going to be a mother in less than seven months?"

"Well, there's that."

She scowled at him. "How are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked innocently.

"You're just sitting there like nothing's happening!"

His eyebrows dipped. "Well… nothing _is_ happening."

She was about to retaliate, but realising with some reluctance that he was right her thumbnail retreated once again between her teeth. She sighed heavily. "What am I supposed to do?" she murmured, so quietly that she wondered if she'd have to repeat it.

She didn't. "Nothing, yet," he answered, as if this would solve everything.

"Ok, then what do I do in seven months' time, when this- person, is going to need me and depend on me and I have no idea how to look after it?"

"You'll learn," he said gently. "That's what being a parent is."

She was reminded in times like these how very long he had lived. Her eyes swivelled to him anxiously. "I know you've… done this before, Doctor," she said slowly, in a ridiculously tiny voice. "But- I haven't, and- I'm just worried that I'm not going to be very good. I mean, I have no experience with kids- even when I _was_ a kid the only other ones I knew were my parents, and… I never…" Breath left her in a short sigh. "There were times when I thought- but- I didn't think…"

"Now I know why you tell me off for not finishing sentences." He was smiling, still, as he pulled her hand away from her mouth and twined his fingers through hers. "Talk to me. That's what I'm here for."

She groaned. "No, because I don't want you to feel like you're _obliged_-"

"River; you're my wife. Believe it or not, I don't actually mind listening to you."

She gazed at him helplessly. "You're going to get bored of me. You realise that?"

"I'm not going to get bored of you."  
"If I'm like this every day, you will. Which I will be… you can still go, if you want to, come back in about eighteen years-"

"Now, why would I do that?" He nodded over to the conservatory, where through the glass they could see the Tardis at the end of the garden. "See that little blue box? That little blue box can go anywhere in the whole of time and space, and I have the key to it. There's nothing between me and that box but an unlocked conservatory door and about thirty seconds. So, the only possible reason why I'm still sitting here is because I want to still be sitting here."

He traced the lines in her palms with his fingertips as he was talking. She snorted softly, trying to disguise the fact that her heart mad melted into a little puddle inside her ribs. "We'll see."

"_You'll_ see. In the meantime, seeing as you're stuck with me, you might as well finish your sentences or it's going to be a very long seven months."

River puffed out a little defeated sigh. "Since when did you do all the winning in this relationship?"

He just smiled, squeezing her hand. River forgot how to breathe when he was looking at her with those eyes of a benevolent hazel, so forced herself to stare at her slippers. "Ok. You know I love you," she started quietly, not bothering to wait for the reply he had never given her. "And… when I first met you, I said I wasn't a wedding person, which was true, but I wanted to marry you, which I suppose makes you the exception. And I never… I never wanted children, but there were some times, not very many, but... I thought if by some miracle I did, one day, then… they would only ever be yours."

She was shocked at herself, in a way, allowing herself to admit such things. He didn't let go of her hand and run head-first through the conservatory window, so she told herself to go on. "But even so… I didn't think that we ever would, with our lives, and- you know, the fact that we're different species…"

She finally looked up, reminding herself who she was talking to. From the two of them, shyness wasn't supposed to come from her. "How did this happen, Doctor? I mean, I _know_… and we're lucky that we were in the right order for _that_ actually, because that could have been really awkward, but what I mean is… you said yourself that you didn't think this was possible."

He shrugged. "We're not completely different species, remember. You must have just enough Time Lord genes to carry a Gallifreyan child."

"Obviously, but… we've been together a _long_ time, and we've hardly been careful; why has it taken this long?"

"I don't know, River," he answered placidly, soothing the worry from her voice by running his thumb over the back of her hand. "It might have had something to do with whatever the Silence did to you, or… more likely, with you being a child of the Tardis, you might have inherited a… Time Lord evolutionary trick," he finished slowly.

"Speaking in tongues, sweetie. What does that mean?"

"Well… because Time Lords live so long, over the centuries they evolved to sort of… not conceive. If you're married to someone for centuries, you don't want to be getting pregnant as often as humans do; imagine how many children you'd end up having. So, instead, of the eggs that Time Ladies produced… I think about one in every six hundred eggs was even capable of being fertilised."

River's mouth hung open incredulously. "What? That's one every fifty years!" she cried. "So if they missed that window, they'd have to wait another fifty years to try again?"

"Yep; and then on top of that, the odds of that once-in-fifty-years egg actually becoming a baby… roughly twenty five per cent? So, on average Time Lords conceive- if they try pretty hard and get their dates right- every two hundred years."

"God," she breathed, shaking her spinning head and feeling a wave of guilt at ever having wished away something so rare, so precious. "No wonder you said it was a miracle…"

He hummed pensively, watching her as she placed a gentle hand on her stomach. "It might be different for you, with you being part human; maybe once every twenty-five years or so instead, I'm not sure. How long have we been married from your end?"

"Um… roughly a century, I think. But I only saw you once a month, if that."

"Well." He smiled. "I suppose we just got lucky."

Luck: one of the Universe's most blessed miracles if he ever knew it; even accidental luck. _Especially_ that.


	8. Insecurity

**~ The Doctor has now stayed a week; although apparently, this hasn't eased River's paranoia about being left behind. ~**

* * *

When the Doctor crept out of the Tardis, he had only just let the door shut behind him when he noticed River standing a few feet away with folded arms and glistening eyes.

"What are you doing?"

His head whipped from the Tardis to her uselessly. Seeing her with the look of dejection that was currently shrouding her features had become a shockingly regular thing, but he was certain that it would never cease to spin him into a panic. Stuck between wanting to find words enough to reassure her and just bound over and envelop her in a lung-crushing hug rendered him into a useless uncoordinated mess of twitching limbs and stutters. "Um…"

Unfortunately, she came to her own conclusion. "You're leaving, aren't you?" she asked in a tiny, shaking voice.

He blinked, taken aback and slightly panicked that this was what she had assumed, knowing what it could do to her in her state. He had to put this right. "What- no, no, I- I'm not leaving!"

Under the patio lights, he noticed two glistening lines standing out on her cheeks. "Are you lying?"

"No! River, I wasn't going anywhere, I promise, I- I was just getting this." He held up the little box in his hands. "It's just- um- a little something that I got for you, I thought it might… cheer you up."

She scrubbed her eyes, sniffing back tears. "You're not- leaving me?"

"No- I- I'm…" He couldn't take this any longer. With a desperate sigh, he threw the box onto the garden table next to them and pulled her into a tight hug. "River," he whispered against her hair. "You're breaking my hearts."

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper, only making him hold her tighter.

He lifted her off his shoulder when the sound of her sobs died down, running his thumbs along her cheeks. "Please stop this," he implored. "You know how much I love your smile, and I can't remember the last time I saw it." His eyes wandered to the table, and he leaned over to pick the box up. "Maybe this will help."

He handed it to her with an apprehensive smile, watching as she opened it with shaking hands. By the time she discovered the diamond necklace in the little blue velvet box, she was crying for a different reason.

"Oh, Doctor…" River looked up at him, shaking her head and sniffing back tears. "Why did you… what's this for?"

"You," he answered, the smile growing. "I thought you'd like it. Think of it as a… pregnancy present. Do people get people pregnancy presents?"

She laughed tearfully. "Not really, no."

His brow furrowed. "What? So you get presents for moving house, getting engaged, getting married and having a baby, but not for getting pregnant? That doesn't make any sense!"

"Sweetie, it's ok. I… I love it." She pressed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry I'm being so… paranoid."

He shook his head. "I suppose that's my fault."

"But it isn't, I… you've done nothing wrong; you've stayed with me for over a week, and you've been so wonderful to me, and… I'm just, I'm sorry."

She looked away into the darkness. The Doctor stood awkwardly; not sure quite how to bring reassurance to her until his eyes flickered to the necklace in her hands.

"Here." Prising it from her gently, he brushed her hair back to fasten it around her neck in one of many reassuring gestures, each a tiny piece to put together the puzzle of fixing her.


	9. Bad Penny

He led River into the warm Pond kitchen, her new necklace sparkling in the lamplight, and stopped her in the place where he faintly realised he had been standing a week ago on discovering what was now still making worry clouding her eyes.

"Look at me," the Doctor said softly.

His wife did as he asked, somewhat reluctantly.

"Stop it."

She frowned through her shimmery eyes. "Stop what?"

"Worrying," he told her with a little smile. "I'm not going anywhere, ok?"

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know."

"No, you don't," he said gently, stopping her before she retaliated. "It's ok. Just listen to me for a minute."

He nodded to the dining table, and she followed him with her elbows cradled in her palms, taking a seat next to him. "River… I'd like to make you a promise."

She sniffed, brushing a tear away from her cheek hastily. "Ok."

He sensed the doubt in her voice, and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "I know I'm not very good at keeping promises. Hell, I've broken every one I've ever made. But if there is one promise in my entire life that I will never break, I swear to you it's this one."

She gazed at him with those eyes that now seemed permanently filled with tears, not able to speak.

He took hold of her hand in both of his. "I promise you, River Song, that I will be your personal bad penny for the rest of your life."

She laughed through her tears. He hoped she believed him; it was true, after all. He had certainly been there at the end of her life, though of course he could never tell her that.

He prayed with all his hearts that that day was still in her distant future, before doing all he could and violently pushing the memory to the back of his head.

"You'll never get rid of me. Even if you try, I'll just keep turning up until you're sick of the sight of me! How does that sound?"

"Familiar," she giggled, sniffing. "That sounds good. You might regret promising me that, you know. I'm going to be huge, and hormonal, and… I'll probably hate you a lot of the time."

"Familiar," he replied with a grin. "I think I can cope with that. I'll be here for the next bit, too; I'll be here for all the bits. And do you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm really looking forward to it." He brought her hand to his lips to kiss it. "River, I never thought I'd have _anything_ like this. I have a future with you, and our baby, and I'm not going to run away from that. Ok?"

"Ok."

"I mean it, River."

"I know. I do know," she insisted when he raised his eyebrows.

"This isn't just a big-sad-eyes speech."

"I know, Doctor."

He looked uncertain; understandable, given her reaction to his leaving a room for more than a few seconds over the past three weeks. They said barely another word to each other that evening, knowing that for now uncertainty was simply something that would simply have to be accepted. In the mean time, husband brought wife cups of tea and smiling faces carved into apples, and covered her with a blanket when sleep found her on the sofa.


	10. The Discovery of Sleep

They had never slept together. Not _slept_ _together _in the way that Amy meant it, complete with raised eyebrows and a smirk. But they were travellers; they ran. Because of their identical inability to remain still, in all the time they had spent together- all the times they had _been_ together- they had never fallen asleep in each other's presence.

River had always been his whirlwind; storming into his life, often in a blaze of smoke (or at times, actually on fire), whisking him away to somewhere exotic by demand, maybe hopping to a few places in a row. They'd return to the Tardis eventually, and with the Time Lord genes that gave her an unfaltering sparkle she would still have more than enough energy to spend a further few hours with him, more often than not engaging in another favourite pastime of hers. Sometimes, just when his hearts had begun to resume their normal pace, she would grab his hand and make him run all over again before she disappeared in a breeze just as she had arrived.

Sleep hadn't factored in their beautifully chaotic lives. However, that was before, well, before everything. It had shocked him slightly, along with everything else, how much she had slept since he had been staying with her. Even Amy and Rory had informed him how their daughter had spent the majority of the month before his arrival sleeping. He knew it was because of the pregnancy, the Time Lord genes of his child physically exhausting her; he also knew that she was attempting to fight it. Her eyelids would often droop while he was rambling about some distant constellation, but she would try to smile and nod in all the right places.

Still, even she could only keep up the façade for so long before creeping upstairs silently to curl up under the covers in the spare bedroom and lose herself in dreams.

He usually left her alone when she was sleeping there. As fond of her as he was, he thought knowing himself that he could not lay at her side when she was dreaming for more than a few minutes without growing restless. He would preoccupy himself with a multitude of mediocre activities for the hours that she was unconscious, even at night, greeting her brightly when she finally came downstairs.

But one drizzly morning began a new habit that would last the rest of their lives together.

With Amy and Rory both at work he had washed the dishes, dusted every possible surface downstairs, made a smoothie from all the fruit he could find in the kitchen, and re-wired every electrical appliance before his thoughts drifted to River.

It was strange how he had begun to miss her when she wasn't next to him; it had happened without him entirely realising it, the way that sensations have a habit of doing. Before all of this he could last weeks, months even without her, and she without him. Now he had stayed long enough that she came looking for him on a daily basis, often to seek some form of comfort or just to be in somebody else's presence.

The funny thing was that he had started doing the same; seeking her out to make sure she was alright, something he never thought he'd do because up until now she would never have let him. He was old enough, of course, to know that the stoic exterior she bore was just that. Inside she was just as broken as him, just as vulnerable and liable to snap.

If her being pregnant meant that she let him look after her, then he could very much get used to it, he thought as he made his way upstairs with a warm cup of tea.

He knew that she was still asleep from the lack of greeting as he crept into the spare bedroom, so he tiptoed over to place the mug on the bedside table with the intention of leaving her alone once again. But then he allowed himself to glance at her, just for a brief moment.

She was curled up in a little ball, knees drawn up almost to her chin and covers tucked around her like a personal cocoon. Her hair was fanned out abundantly across the pillow; a stray tendril was draped across her closed eyes, and by impulse he crouched down to brush it back.

She hummed sleepily at his touch, bringing a little smile to his face.

It was strangely captivating to watch her sleeping, a whole new part of her that he had never previously known. Her mouth curled upwards slightly at the corners even in sleep and her eyes flickered behind her eyelids, encased in dreams which he hoped were pleasant. She looked so peaceful this way; still, the way that she was on the very edge of the double bed as if she couldn't stand to be surrounded by empty sheets, the way her hands were clasped in each other under her chin because there was no-one else to hold them, made a flicker of guilt pulse through him. It occurred to him that she must have slept like this every night of her life, alone and cold; perhaps she didn't mind, but he did.

For the first time in all their lives, he thought about the person she was without him. With him she was the River Song who loved guns and handcuffs and running and anything which generally enticed the concept of danger. He'd always known that that wasn't _all_ of her; it couldn't be. There'd been moments, of course, where she had shone through the smokescreen; on those nights where she'd grow quiet and wouldn't tell him why her eyes were glistening, on those days when she would tell him in between all the peril and destruction that she loved him.

As he watched her sleep, he suddenly wanted to shake her awake and tell her that he did not want her to live any part of her life without him from this day forward. He wanted to tell her that if this was the real her- the one he had run after in the rain, the one who cried whenever he left a room and spent the day sleeping- then he wanted to get to know the real her better. He wanted to tell her that she was as perfect this way as she was hopping between the stars.

He didn't, of course; mainly because he had a strong feeling that waking her would result in a slap. Instead, he climbed to his feet from where he had been perched next to the bed letting minutes escape him to tiptoe around to the other side.

It was quite a procedure to lie down without disturbing her, but he managed it. She was still curled up as he rested his head on the pillow that her head wasn't occupying and proceeded to gaze up at the ceiling.

He'd never done this in his life, but it ceased to bore him due to the revelations of the past weeks occupying his thoughts. He let himself imagine all manner of wonderful things; River as a mother was one of his favourite daydreams. Compared to sharing a child with her, the Cosmos seemed dull.

He hoped that he'd be enough to keep her together, being well aware of how afraid she was that she would fall apart. It was something he had worried about since overhearing those words in the kitchen, the thought of letting her down in any way during this. Honestly, he was slightly afraid to leave in case the damn helmic regulator ensured that he next turned up on their child's eighteenth birthday.

She had been insistent that he keep travelling. He knew he'd have to, eventually- he'd always have to, it was written into the core of his soul- but he realised as he lay there that he had finally found someone who he wanted to come home to.

His thoughts were disturbed by restless movement next to him. His eyes flickered to River who was twisting and turning in her duvet cocoon, her hands freeing themselves and spreading out like wings as if in search of something.

Of the things he learned about her that morning, her sleeping habits were the most intriguing. Utterly unaware of her own actions, she flipped onto her other side and proceeded to wriggle along the bed until her body was curled up snugly against his.

His eyebrows dipped, convinced that she must be secretly awake and this was all some form of ruse; it would have been very her to lure him into such a trap. But her eyes remained tightly shut, the occasional sleepy snuffle coming from her as she buried her nose in his shoulder and draped her arm over his stomach with a possessive grunt.

He wondered how many nights she had searched for him like this fruitlessly in slumber, and he hadn't been there for her to hold on to. Even the most skilled of liars and mask-wearers could not keep up their frontages in sleep, and therefore that morning taught him something else about her; River Song was lonely.

Once she had found him she grew still once again, sighing contentedly into the fabric of his shirt. He kept as still as physically possible, the thought of disturbing her mortifying to him, only tilting his head ever so slightly to the side to rest against hers and breathe in the sweet tang of flowers in spring that her hair bore.

He found solace there, with her next to him and nothing but the low hum of the world turning outside. Morning had crawled into afternoon by the time she stirred; in that time he had lain patiently as she'd continued to cling to his waist as if her life depended on it, listened to her sleepy incoherent mumbles interspersed with random giggles as something in her dreams humoured her. He recognised his own name a decent few times in between drowsy murmurs, assuming that they ran and danced between stars in her reveries as much as they did when she was conscious.

She talked almost as much in her sleep as she did when awake, as if that beautiful sparkly orb of a mind just couldn't quite switch off. She had pulled his shirt between her teeth at one point and started to chew it until it became crinkled, before she found her own hand. Yet another thing he learned about her that day to add to the list; River Song sucked her thumb. He wondered briefly if she knew, and even more briefly contemplated telling her before he realised that the very likely outcome of that would be his own death.

All of these new and wonderful things were more than enough to occupy him until her eyes flickered open, squinting against the daylight. In her sluggish daze it took her a good few moments to realise the one difference to all the other times in her life she had awoken; when it finally registered that there was another living being next to her she lifted her head with a sharp intake of breath.

"Hello," he said softly, startling her further.

She regarded him with a hostile frown, hastily rubbing sleep from her eyes and smoothing her wild hair as she drew her arm away from him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see if you were alright…" He glanced at the bedside clock. "…Just under three hours ago; I got, a bit distracted."

She blinked sleepily, forehead creasing. "Distracted how?"

The Doctor smiled timidly. "I've never seen you sleep before."

His wife buried her face in her pillow with a heavy groan. "There's a _reason_ for that… I wish you hadn't come in here. Don't you have, I don't know, a new type of biscuit to try, or a sonic screwdriver to invent?"

"I'm sorry. I can- leave you alone, if you want."

He struggled to make the words sound sincere, having seen the glimmer of unadulterated happiness that had, incredibly briefly, flashed in her eyes before the insecurity had clouded it over upon awakening. Plus, there was the fact that he now knew he only had to lie next to her for a matter of seconds for her to find him, albeit subconsciously. He never thought that he would get to know her better while she slept.

River lifted her head reluctantly. "Sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I'm _boring_!" she cried dramatically, rolling onto her back with a huff. "All I do is sleep because of this bloody pregnancy; you might as well go somewhere you won't be bored to death. It's ok, I'll understand."

"Ok. I'll just be off, then." He clasped his hands over his stomach and let his eyes float across the ceiling, sensing her eyes roll towards him.

"You're still here."

"Well." He grinned without looking at her. "Isn't that strange?"

She sighed. "Doctor…"

"_River_…" he replied in the same exasperated tone with that unrelenting smile, making her scowl at him.

"Look- you're not trapped, ok? You don't have to stay here."

"Haven't we had this conversation?" he asked gently.

"I know, but…"

"But you're scared that I'm going to change my mind," he finished knowingly. There was no answer from next to him, leaving them a few peaceful if slightly uncomfortable seconds of silence which was eventually dispelled by his quiet but sincere words. "You're beautiful when you're asleep."

She snorted derisively. "Shut up."

"I mean, you're beautiful all the time," he went on as if she hadn't spoken, surprisingly casually because maintaining eye contact with the ceiling made him less liable to turn into a useless puddle of mush. "But especially when you're asleep."

There was a little beat between them, as if she wasn't entirely sure what to do with his words. "You only like me because I'm not talking," she replied eventually, not managing to sound as brash as she usually did.

"I like you because it's the real you; with no guards or pretences. The you who gets cold and likes hugs. But for the record, you _are_ talking."

"What?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"Do I?"

He hummed, a little giggle escaping him. "It's funny."

She shoved him so hard that he almost fell off the bed. "I do _not_ like hugs."

"Ok. Well, I'm here if you ever have a change of heart."

He waited patiently; it only took her a minute to roll onto her side to be close to him once again, resting her hand between his hearts.

He liked the new sort of calmness that had descended upon them amidst all the panic of impending parenthood; little by little, she was letting him in. "I hate you," she mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around her with a victorious smile. "Like you hate hugs?"

"…Exactly like I hate hugs," she answered, snuggling her head in the crook of his shoulder.


	11. Big Steps, Little Bumps

"Here you are."

The Doctor had brought his wife a cup of tea, wanting so desperately to help in some way; spending the majority of the morning being sick had left River with an ashen tint to her skin and shadows underneath her tired eyes. She'd given up on sleeping, coming downstairs at half past four to sit alone in the living room, and his vow to never let her be alone had propelled him after her despite her grumbled utterances that she was fine and did not require babysitting.

She glanced up at him in faint surprise; apparently he had startled her out of a deep daydream, something that she permanently seemed to be lost in. "What's that?" she asked in a voice that didn't quite sound like hers, eyeing the mug.

"It's tea."

She didn't move, so he placed it on the coffee table before coming to sit next to her on the sofa. "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes were still on the mug. His hearts sank as he watched them well dangerously with tears without warning. "You didn't have to make me tea," she mumbled, pressing her fingers to her mouth.

"Well, I just… ok. Um… no- River, don't…"

He sighed softly when she started sobbing, bringing her feet up onto the sofa to bury her face in her knees.

"Hey." The Doctor nudged her gently, not entirely sure what to do. This wasn't a River he had even seen up until a month ago. "It's herbal; it'll help with your morning sickness…"

Her head shot up specifically to glare at him. "Doctor, _nothing_ is going to help with my bloody morning sickness. I hate this! Your stupid Time Lord-y genes are burning me! And I'm fat."

"No you aren't."

"Yes I am." She sniffed dramatically, picking up her tea and inhaling the smell with closed eyes. "You don't know because I'm wearing clothes two sizes too big. Although, by the time I'm finished- cooking this baby of yours, they'll probably be two sizes too small…"

"Well, it's been three months..." His eyes flickered down to her stomach curiously, wondering the same thing that he had been for the past week or so.

It was impossible to tell, what with how well she had been concealing it. He was a little afraid to ask, given her reaction to almost anything now was either screaming or crying, or both.

"Doctor?"

His wife's voice snapped him out his reverie; he realised that he hadn't been completely subtle in staring at her stomach for several seconds.

"Sorry, I…" He looked away, twirling his thumbs anxiously. "I was just… wondering, if you…"

River put down her tea carefully, throwing him a little smile. "Do you want to see?"

"Well…"

"You can if you want to, sweetie. It is _your_ bump."

His eyes lit up. "You have a bump?"

"Mmm-hmm… I know you can't tell under the tent-sized jumper, but it's there." Warmth seemed to spread through her features as she rested a tender hand on her stomach and for the first time since he had found out about the baby, he thought she looked happy about the whole concept. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he answered, hearing a surprising thickness in his own voice. It was a little overwhelming to see her like this, knowing that it was because of something they shared. It was certainly better than crying in the pouring rain.

"How big will it be? The baby?" she asked timidly.

"At twelve weeks, um… roughly five and a half centimetres, maybe a little smaller."

He almost giggled at the shock on her face. "What? That's tiny!"

"Yeah, about… this," he said quietly, making the distance with his finger and thumb. They stared at it for a while in awed silence as if the little space was actually their child.

This revelation appeared to soften her. "For something so small, it's making me rather huge."

"You're not huge, honey."

"You would think that, courtesy of the jumper acting as a makeshift perception filter."

His eyes met hers, sparkling with a smile. "Show me?"

River chewed her lip. "I'm just warning you, everything looks a little different from the last time you saw it… I'm pretty sure most of the bump is just fat."

"But it's still a baby bump."

"Your baby bump," she reminded him, biting back a grin. To his delight, she hopped off the sofa a moment later and pulled him with her. "Ok," she sighed, both of them standing in the centre of the living room. The first light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the curtains, casting an impish glow on their smiling faces. "Ready?"

He nodded gently.

"Don't be… repulsed. Or laugh. Don't laugh."

"I won't. I promise."

"Alright…" River's hands curled reluctantly around the hem of her jumper.

He watched her with a breath captive in his lungs as she carefully lifted it up, folding it neatly below the ribs just enough to expose her swollen stomach.

"There. What do you think?"

There were moments of blissful awed silence between them, moments he took care to imprint on his memory for the rest of time: the look in his wife's eyes as she gazed at her stomach, filled with love and thrill and fear for this unfamiliar, tiny thing inside her; the perfect bump that made him wonder how he could ever have been afraid about any of this.

"Sweetie, are you alright?"

He nodded dreamily, blinking the water from his eyes. "Yeah, I'm… can I?" he asked, searching her eyes anxiously.

"Of course you can."

He took a tiny step towards her, cupping the bump lovingly in his hands as a huge smile flooded his face. "River… it's beautiful. You're beautiful. It's…"

"Cool?" she finished with a smirk.

He laughed. "It's better than cool. It's… amazing."

"My, better than cool?" she smiled. "That's a mighty compliment coming from you, sweetie."

He hummed, concentrating on her stomach with a sort of adoration he didn't know he was capable of possessing. "It seems quite big, for twelve weeks," he remarked softly.

She scoffed. "I told you I was fat!"

"No, I mean…" He traced the outline of the little bump with his thumbs tenderly. "It's all here. Maybe you're further along than you think."

"Do you think so? Oh god, even six months isn't long enough to prepare; don't tell me I have _less_ time!"

He smiled. "Hey; I know. Why don't we book a scan for you, at Sisters of the Infinite Schism? We can find out then, and we'll be able to see the baby too." He saw her eyes flicker. "I mean- if you want to."

"No, I do, of course I do. It's just…" She puffed out her cheeks. "It's a big step."

"Well, we'll take it together." He pulled her into a gentle hug.

"Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder.

"What for?" he asked.

"You're making me less scared. And feel less like a beached whale."

"Well, that's good."

"You're lucky, you know. I was planning to hide as much of my changing body as physically possible for the next six months."

"Does that mean I'm special?"

"Hmm… maybe," she decided, pulling back to grin at him. He decided not to tell her how delighted he was, knowing that she trusted him again; pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose instead.


	12. The Song Constellation

"Right then, Professor. Let's have a look at your baby, shall we?"

River felt her mother take hold of her spare hand, giving it a squeeze as the nurse squirted gel onto her swollen stomach.

"Is it cold?" Rory asked, watching with slight fascination.

She shrugged, speaking quietly for fear of running this rather significant moment. It seemed as if her parents were going to do that for her. "I suppose, why?"

"When I do it at the hospital, they always mention how cold it is."

"It's just gel, dad. I've been through worse, if I'm honest." She sighed through her nose. "I _will_ have to go through worse in six months."

"You'll be fine," Amy assured her. "We'll be here, won't we, Rory?"

"Yeah… well, I probably won't be in the _room_, but yeah-"

"Ponds," a voice in a near-whisper warned, silencing them. It was the first time the Doctor had spoken since they'd arrived at the hospital, aside from commenting on the quality of some questionable apples and reading River an article from Good Housekeeping magazine in the waiting room. This was exceptional, for him, being able to maintain this level of hush. River stole a glance at him from where he sat between her parents, chin in his hands and his eyes flickering nervously from her stomach to the little black screen next to the bed that would soon show them what had caused the last three months to be possibly more stressful than their entire lives combined. She couldn't help a little fond smile, and when he caught her eye, they exchanged that little look that they so often did now; one that conveyed everything without the need of words.

The nurse pressed the ultrasound scanner to the bump, making them all collapse into an intense form of silence as they watched the screen with morbid concentration.

After what felt like the longest moment of her life- saying a lot, for a woman with twelve thousand consecutive prison sentences- a sound not unlike a tiny drum filled their ears.

The nurse kept the scanner in place, watching with a smile as a little blurry image began to focus on the monitor. "Those are your baby's heartbeats… and that… is your baby."

River had never known how she was going to react to this moment. She had tried to imagine it many times in the past few weeks, but nothing within her imagination had come close to this. Slightly to her surprise, she felt her eyes well with overwhelmed tears.

She wanted to look at the Doctor, but seemed unable to tear her eyes away from the image of her baby.

"Everything looks good; it's definitely healthy, and it seems to be developing well so far…" The nurse's soft voice seemed distant, as if she was dreaming it. "That's the head, and there…"

She moved the scanner a little and suddenly trailed off, any other words she was planning being replaced with a surprised, "Oh!"

River sensed the heads of her parents and husband shooting up with her own. "What is it, is something wrong?" she asked as fast as lightning, her voice a little thick. She could hear the alarm in her own words, overriding everything else that had surfaced within the last minute, and her eyes flew back to the little screen, desperately trying to work out what was the matter with the perfect image on it.

"No, no, just… Professor, I believe you're carrying twins."

She felt her heart flip over. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm picking up four heartbeats," the nurse told her, without looking away from the screen. She heard three gasps next to her.

"Are… I- are you sure?" she croaked.

"Yes; four very strong heartbeats… and… yes, there's the second baby- just next to the first, there."

"Oh my god," River whispered, holding her free hand to her mouth.

She moved the scanner along so that another little shape appeared on the screen just like the first; a tiny grey blur, with a little bump of a head and the beginnings of arms and legs. It was curled up tightly like its twin, warm and asleep and safe.

"So… they appear to be non-identical- they will have come from two separate eggs, so they'll be no more alike than any other siblings, and…"

She was unaware of the nurse even talking as she looked at the Doctor for reassurance, not quite sure how she even wanted to react to this. He was staring at the screen with almost comically huge shimmery eyes, and she bit her lip to keep herself composed, sensing that no-one else was going to be brave for her.

"Congratulations!" the nurse exclaimed, although they weren't entirely sure that this was the right word. "We can arrange an appointment with Doctor Freeman to discuss multiple pregnancies... but, for now, everything looks good! Do you want a picture to take home?"

At some point, most likely around the word "multiple", she had seemed to lose the ability of speech. It was rather disconcerting, feeling like this; not in control, not having something to say.

"Yes. She would."

The Doctor spoke for her. She would have thanked him if she hadn't been utterly frozen, still staring at the screen in an attempt to comprehend the fact that there were two whole people inside her.

"Ok. I'll give you a minute with your family."

The nurse cleaned her stomach and put the monitor away; each noise that this process evoked seeming rather ridiculously loud, as if attempting to compensate for the silence. River stared at nothing in particular with glazed eyes, unable to move.

The door had barely closed behind her before Amy's exclamation of "Oh my GOD!" made River jump.

She sighed shakily, taking her hand away from her mother's to press her knuckles to her mouth. "How… how… how can it be twins?"

She noticed Rory shift in his seat. "Well, now you mention it, uh… twins do actually run on my side of the family, generally through the women; my mum was a twin, so…" He trailed off nervously, seeing River's stony glare fixed on him.

"Well, it's a good thing you told me that before, Dad, otherwise I could be suffering from severe shock at this particular moment in time!" River hissed crossly.

"Rory, hush," the Doctor instructed, hopping up from his chair to perch on River's bed, putting an arm gently around her shoulders. "Hey; are you ok?"

She looked at him, stuck halfway between tears and a rather terrified smile that didn't really come through. They were very close, the tips of their noses almost touching; she liked it like this. It was as if they were in their very own little pocket of time, where nobody else could reach them.

"I don't even know whether to be happy or not," she admitted with a nervous laugh, swallowing a lump in her throat. Thankfully, he smiled too. "I mean… I… _one_, was…"

"One was a miracle," he reminded her in a voice that was somehow more calming than anything she had ever heard. "One was wonderful; two is the best thing that could ever have happened to us."

"How?" she asked, a little doubtfully.

"Because, how long has this taken us? How much have we been through, to get to this? This is our reward, River, it's the only one we'll ever have; and we're getting _two_."

She almost gave in, for a second. But then she remembered that words were not going to take away the stress of having two whole people to look after for the rest of her life.

"Well, of course _you're_ alright with it," she muttered, wishing that she could sound more scornful than she was currently managing with her dangerously uneven voice. "You won't have to raise them!"

She noticed the little flicker in his eyes, and wished that she could impose a ban on herself speaking during times of stress and high hormone levels. He had looked so delighted, too. Why couldn't she be more like him?

"I'll be here," he said solemnly. "You know I will. And they will too, right, Ponds?"

"Yeah!" they cried simultaneously on noticing that the Doctor had fixed them with an expectant Help-Me-Out-Here stare.

"See?"

She cradled her own head in her hand with a weary sigh. "Oh, God… I'm going to be huge, aren't I?"

"Yeah, probably…"

"Doctor!" she heard Amy hiss, bringing a weak smile to her face.

"What? She's got two people growing inside her; she isn't going to shrink, is she?"

"I'll pull moons out of orbit. I could the centre of a new Solar System."

"The Song Constellation!" the Doctor announced with a grin. "That sounds cool."

"It's not _cool_, shut up. This is all your fault," she mumbled into her palm.

"Well, actually, twins don't run in my-"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

"Sorry."

In the little silence that followed, she took his hand and wound her fingers around his, hoping that he would know how much he was needed here without her having to say it.

It seemed to work; she felt the kiss that he pressed to her temple, and he stayed next to her, which was something. It was more than the majority of people she had met in her life had done, at least.

"Here you are!"

The nurse's stupidly cheery voice startled all of them as she bustled back into the room, clutching a little shiny piece of paper in her hands.

The Doctor took it, because she didn't quite have the strength to move, not yet. "River, look," he whispered, holding it in front of her eyes.

He was cradling the picture as if it was a living creature, careful not to crease it at the edges.

She was aware of the silence in the room, as if they were all waiting for her to get ok with this.

The picture was startlingly clear; he handed it to her after a while, even though her hands were shaking. River looked at it for what must have been minutes, until she had to hold it away to stop her tears dripping onto it.

"River," her husband, mother and father soothed simultaneously when a sob caught in her throat; over the past month, they had grown more than used to comforting her.

Unknown to them, it wasn't necessary. She traced the outline of the tiny people in the photo with her little finger. "Hey," the Doctor whispered. "I know it's a shock, but we're going to be-"

"No- I know," she said quickly. "I'm not… I'm ok. It's just…" She pressed her fingers to her mouth, a sudden smile tearing across it. "They're so beautiful!"

And they would be; more than they could have possibly imagined.


	13. Desertion Through Literature

River came to help him with the washing up, putting a little too much effort into drying a mug. She sensed the Doctor watching her.

"You should get some sleep," he said softly.

She waved her free hand dismissively, almost dropping the mug in the process. "Ah, I'm not really tired. I might just… read a book, or something."

"Ok. Ooh, I've got a great one! I've been meaning to let you borrow it- you'll love it, I'll just go and get it-"

She quickly put the mug down, her eyes flying to him. "Where is it?"

"In the Tardis," he explained casually, already halfway out of the kitchen. "I think it's in the study, I'll see if I can find it. I'll just be a minute-"

"No!"

She realised how panicked she sounded, but felt desperate- if she'd waited any longer to think of something cleverer to say, something that sounded a little less paranoid, he could have disappeared. It was obvious, really; he would have done it while she was sleeping, but she'd disturbed his plan- intentionally. She was exhausted, but she'd be damned if she was going to sleep while he flew away. She wasn't just going to let him go.

Her cry froze him in the doorway, and he spun around to face her with a frown. "What's wrong?"

"Um… I- I can get it," she said quickly.

"Don't be daft. You don't know where it is. Anyway, you should be resting- just sit down, I'll fetch it-"

"I can help you look for it," she suggested urgently.

The Doctor smiled. "Honey, I know you can do pretty much everything better than me, but I think I can locate a book."

He wasn't going to give in. Seeing no point in forcing him to stay, she folded her arms and looked away from him to hide the water rapidly filling her eyes. "Ok," she whispered.

She thought he might have said something, but he didn't; after all these years she got nothing, not even a goodbye. When she looked back, he was gone.

She sunk down onto one of the dining chairs and burst into tears.

"Here you go!"

His voice less than two minutes later made her physically jump, her head lifting itself out of her hands as a wave of sickness washed over her upon realising that there was no way she could hide the thick tear tracks down her face, her puffy eyes.

His face fell. He was on his knees next to the dining chair in less than a second, his hands wrapping around hers. "River! What's the matter?"

She took her hands away to shadow her eyes. "Oh, god. Nothing. I'm- I'm fine."

He pulled a chair up to be level with her, gently cupping her face in his hands. "River, tell me."

"I just…" She sighed, annoyed at herself as she drew her face away from him. "I thought you were, um, leaving. That's all."

Despite the casualness she attempted, she noticed the devastation seep into his features. Apparently rendering him speechless, he sat by her side for a few hushed moments, before his utterance of her name made her look up with reluctance.

"Remember what I promised you," he reminded her, placing his hands on her arms. "I'm your bad penny."

She smiled wanly. "I know; but…" Trailing off with a breathless sigh, the memories of the hospital came back to her. She supposed that she still hadn't quite got her head around them. "…Twins," she finished uncertainly, looking up at her husband to gauge his reaction.

A wonderful grin lit up his face. "Twins!" he echoed, though in such a different tone that it didn't sound like the same word.

He made her smile; she was thankful for that. She wondered, not for the first time, what she would have done without him here.

"Today hasn't changed anything, you know," he told her sincerely.

She gave him one of her wildly sceptical looks. "In six months, we'll have two children. Things _have_ changed."

"For the better," he assured. "We can do this! We'll just each have one, see, swap every once in a while- it'll be a doddle."

She smiled. "I don't think it's that easy, sweetie."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But my point is that it hasn't changed what I promised you last week. No matter what happens, I'm always going to be here. In six months, we can work out how to be parents. And we might get things wrong, and it might be difficult sometimes, but we aren't going to be alone because we'll have each other, and Amy and Rory, and our babies. So it's going to be ok. Ok?"

She sighed. "Ok…"

Apparently, she would have to do better than that. "Ok?" he repeated.

"Ok!" she exclaimed.

"That's better. Now here's your book. Go and relax. Doctor's orders."

Taking her husband's advice; things really had changed.


	14. Fish Fingers and Hormones

**~ To a very hormonal River, the Doctor's choice of delicacy is even more repulsive than usual. ~**

* * *

"Get, those things, _away_ from me."

The Doctor's eyes flitted nervously to the source of the sharp hiss. River was curled up in her pyjamas at the opposite end of the sofa, head resting on the arm and a cushion clutched to her chest. She had been laying there for the majority of the day, not speaking unless the occasional low groan when a wave of sickness passed counted.

He cradled his bowl of fish fingers and custard protectively. "I'm just eating them-"

"I can smell them. They're making me feel sick."

"But… I'm hungry-"

"Then go and eat _outside_."

Rory looked up from his magazine, throwing the Doctor a sympathetic smile. He put his breakfast down on the coffee table obligingly, with a last longing sniff of the custard, and sat with his hands clasped rigidly.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Do you think I can't smell them from _all the way_ over there?" River chided sarcastically.

"Sorry, I'll move them."

"Well, that's very _kind_ of you. Ugh!" she scoffed, bringing her knees up further with a dark scowl. "You're so _useless_! It's all about _you_, isn't it? I'm feeling sick because MAY I REMIND YOU that I'm carrying your children, and all you want to do is stuff your stupid face! How hard is it to eat them in the kitchen?"

"I- I thought you might want some company…"

"Well, I don't. Especially when you _excel_ in annoying me; do you take lessons, or does it come naturally?"

"I… ok. I'll, um, go and finish these in the-"

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

He froze halfway off the sofa, gingerly perching back on the edge. "I… I was just-"

"Seriously, I'm ill and you're going to just leave me? Seriously?! I can't believe you!"

"But- I- you said… never mind. I'm sorry." He placed a hand- very, very carefully- on her shoulder. "Do you want some peppermint tea?"

"Don't you think you've done enough?" she snapped.

"It'll make you feel better."

There was a tiny reluctant silence. "Yes please," River mumbled. "But hurry up! I know what you're like for bloody dawdling."

"Ok. I'll be right back. Promise." He knelt next to the sofa to press a kiss to her burning forehead, ignoring the disgusted face she pulled and hopping into the kitchen to make tea; the beverage that could forever fix.


	15. Flu

**~ Pregnancy continues to take its toll on the Doctor's wife. ~**

* * *

"Quiet this morning," Amy remarked, wandering into the living room to see the Doctor slouched on the sofa, playing on the Wii somewhat half-heartedly. "Where's the missus?"

"In bed," the Doctor muttered, sighing as he lost another virtual game of tennis. "She said she felt a bit under the weather… morning sickness again, I imagine."

"Aww… bored, are we?" she asked with a smirk, seeing a pyramid constructed out of Jammie Dodgers on the coffee table.

"No…"

"Where did those flowers come from?"

"I picked them out of the garden. They're arranged in order of size." He twisted his mouth to the side. "I may be… a smidge bored."

"Oh, Doctor. Do you want me to take you for a game of fetch at the park?"

"Oi." He frowned at her, only managing to make her laugh.

The sound of shuffled footsteps drew their gazes to the doorway. Her voice appeared before she did. "Why didn't you come upstairs? I was shouting for you…"

The Doctor's brow furrowed; not hearing his wife shouting when she was within a mile of him was an exceptionally rare occurrence. "Oh, sorry, I… _River_!"

They leapt off the sofa simultaneously, running to her. "Oh my god, are you alright?" Amy cried.

River gazed at them pitifully with half-closed eyes. Her skin was sickly pale and glistening with cold sweat; the only colour to her face was the grey shadows smeared under her eyes and a trickle of thick red blood trailing from her nose. "I don't feel too good," she croaked through chattering teeth.

The Doctor pressed a hand to her forehead as Amy wiped the blood from her nose. "River, you're burning."

"Am I?" she asked weakly. "I'm freezing… where did that blood come from?"

"Uh, you," Amy told her.

River held her fingers to her nose gingerly. "Oh… I didn't notice. Um, can I sit down, I feel dizzy…"

They half-carried her to the sofa, placing her down gently. "Where's Rory?" the Doctor hissed.

"You know he's at work. He has patients."  
"Well- there's a patient here! River, look at me." He held his wife's head up to stop it lolling to the side. She winced, screwing her eyes shut. "What's wrong?"

"Migraine," she whispered. "You know, I'm not a fan of this whole pregnancy thing, no offence…"

"I don't think this is pregnancy. Looks like you have the flu."

"What about her nose?" Amy asked, dabbing at her daughter's nose to clear the last of the blood.

"The flu causes nose bleeds."

"It hurts."

The Doctor's eyes flickered anxiously at River's words. "What hurts, River?"  
"Everywhere," she groaned, curling up in a little ball in his arms and burying her face in his shirt. "I'm tired…"

"You will be." He wound his fingers through her hair to massage her head. "Just get lots of rest, ok?"

"Sweetie?" she mumbled. He hummed. "I've never had the flu before... I don't care for it."

"You've never had flu? Lucky," Amy remarked.

"I don't normally get human bugs or viruses," she answered, her words all scrambling into one slur so that the Doctor had to repeat it for her mother to understand.

"No; your Time Lord genes mean you have better resistance to them. But right now your immune system's low with the pregnancy, and what little energy you've got left is being used up to keep the twins healthy, I imagine," he told her in a soft voice.

"I knew your buns in my oven were to blame for this," she muttered sulkily.

"You should try to eat a little something."

"No, no, no. No. Not hungry."

"Ok. I'll make you something for later."

"How long does this flu last, then? A few hours?" she asked hopefully.

The Doctor gave her an apologetic smile. "A few days."

Her drawn-out groan at this revelation was almost comical. He sighed softly, letting her snuggle up to him and close her eyes with a sleepy hum.

Amy had to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing. "You're getting good practice," she whispered to the Doctor.

He frowned over the top of River's head. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know how much little kids get sick?" Amy nodded to her daughter. "This will be a regular thing in six months; only the things crawling on your knee will be a bit smaller. But probably just as loud."

He glanced down at his wife, already asleep with one hand curled around his jacket sleeve and the other resting on the tiny bump, just visible beneath her pyjamas. "I believe I can cope," he assured Amy with a soft smile. He'd been surer of little else in his life.


	16. Candle Corner

**~ It's River's birthday; the Doctor has prepared a little something for her at the Pond house. ~**

* * *

The Doctor grinned. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just- please?"

River did as he asked with a dramatic sigh, feeling him gently spin her around and place his hands on her shoulders.

He walked her into the kitchen carefully, letting go once he'd brought her to stand in the doorway and taking a moment to check that everything was perfect before whispering, "Ok. You can open them now."

She did, somewhat apprehensively and gasped, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

"Happy birthday," he said softly, a sparkly smile dancing on his face.

It was dark, save the gentle glow of candlelight that burned on every surface in the kitchen. The dining table was adorned with a silk red tablecloth, a beautiful vase of flowers and two set places, each with a plate full of rather delicious-looking food and a filled wine glass.

"It's Ribena, in the glasses," he explained quickly when he saw her eyes fall on it, wringing his hands nervously. "I know you can't have wine, obviously, so I got a- lookalike."

"Doctor…" she whispered, unable to say much else.

"I know you said you didn't want any fuss, with you not feeling well, so this is just a little something." He grinned. "I had to ask Amy to borrow her candles. She has a lot; it's like a candle farm. Candle zoo? Candle corner! That's the best one."

She was only vaguely aware that he was rambling, gazing at the room and biting her lip forcefully to keep her composure.

"What do you think?"

River looked up at him through the darkness, the candle flames catching in her eyes and making them shimmer. "What have I told you about being nice to me when I'm hormonal?" she whimpered, sniffing back tears.

He laughed softly, stepping forwards to gently dry her cheeks with his shirt sleeve. "I thought this might happen."

River leaned forwards to bury her face in his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Now, come on. It's your birthday; I will not have you crying on your birthday. Your food will get cold," he reminded her gently when she continued to cling to him.

"I don't care."

"I do. It took me ages."

She laughed, pulling back to throw her arms around his neck and draw him into an unexpected kiss. "You're the best husband I've ever had."

He smiled smugly. "Yes, well, I- hang on, wait, _what_?"

"Nothing, sweetie," she smirked. He didn't ask, because nothing in the entirety of time could possibly be more significant than the fact that she was smiling.


	17. Fairytales in the Study

**~ The Doctor takes River away for the weekend for her birthday; but her ideas somewhat differ to his. ~**

* * *

The Tardis enveloped her River in comforting warmth the second the Doctor opened the doors, murmuring vows of protection and love into her head for her unborn children.

The Doctor watched her with an intrigued smile as she circled the console room, running her fingers along the golden surfaces with shimmering eyes. The Tardis hummed at her touch, making a soft laugh flutter from her.

"Ah. It's the first time you've been in here, isn't it?" he realised, coming to join her at the controls.

"It is." They glanced around them with bewildered laughs as the whole room began to glow, lights on the console igniting and shimmering like starlight. "She's congratulating us," River whispered.

The Doctor grinned. "Thanks, dear. Now! River, River, where do you want to go?" he asked excitedly, hopping around the controls. "Name anywhere in the whole Universe, because anywhere in the whole Universe is just a minute away!"

She'd known the answer she was going to give the moment he had proposed the idea; she prised his frantic hands away from the controls, keeping one tightly clasped in hers.

"Nowhere."

The Doctor's face fell. "What?"

She shrugged. "I don't want to go anywhere. I mean, you can put her in flight, but that's it; no travelling."

He gaped at her incredulously. "But- it's your birthday!"

"And it's the last one I'll have on my own," she reminded him, bringing the hand that was cradled in hers to rest on her stomach. "The last one with just me and you, which is fine, but that means it's the last chance I have to do this; to stay still."

She could tell that he was trying to understand, but a little frown clouded his features as his thumb stroked her little bump. "But we've never done this; we never… stay still, not in the Tardis. Not anywhere…"

"No; and in a few months we're going to have two children running us off our feet, so don't you think we ought to make the most of the peace and quiet before it's too late?"

He nodded with a little relenting sigh. "Right, of course… so, just me and you then; between the stars," he smiled. "That sounds good to me."

There they stayed for the weekend; the Doctor made her food, picked out books for her to read, roped her into playing board games and sulked when she won.

He also left her for a few hours each day, as if knowing that she needed the time just to be.

She had never spent so much time in other people's presence as she had in the past weeks; while she assumed it would be something she'd have to grow accustomed to, it still felt good to be alone.

* * *

He found River where he knew he would in the evening; curled up on the red velvet sofa in the Tardis study, her nose buried in a thick book she had plucked from the library. She glanced up on hearing his footfalls, and gently brought the book to a close as he gingerly made his way over. The sofa she lay on was more than wide enough for two to be side by side, which they had done many times; she would comfort him, or vice versa.

Many a conversation had taken place in this room, some uncharacteristically sentimental, and quieter than anyone would have thought possible for the two of them after observing the usual way in which they acted in each other's presence. This was where they could always be themselves; hide away from the Universe and everything it contained, here in this little bubble.

It was a place of peace, his study, with little golden embers burning in the beautiful mahogany fireplace, making the walls flicker with warm yellow light, glinting at him like a sea of stars as they caught in the corners and bounced outwards.

She had shuffled along to make room for him by the time he reached her, and put her knees down, stretching her legs out so that he could do what he always did. It had been a habit of theirs for a long time. He always needed comfort of some kind, with the life he led; no more than a few days went by without her having to console him for something. While she suspected that tonight was more out of affection than needing comfort, it was nice to know that not every aspect of their marriage had been so drastically altered by this pregnancy.

He was still adorably shy- strange considering everything they were, but not unusual for him- and took his time very carefully climbing onto the sofa, curling himself up in a little ball next to her and lightly bringing his head to rest on her stomach, his hands tucked under his chin. She used her own to hold onto him as if he was her child, one winding through his hair and playing it through her fingers, making him smile and hum sleepily. The other rested around his shoulders, keeping him close to her.

He could feel how much calmer she was here, and gave a silent thanks to the Tardis for achieving what he couldn't. Even the tiny whispers of fragmented sensations from the two tiny people inside her seemed more peaceful. He hadn't told her that he could feel everything that they felt, see everything that they could be; she would discover all of that for herself in time, and he didn't want to be the bringer of spoilers.

She smiled fondly at her husband as he finally stopped fidgeting and sighed softly into the fabric of her jumper that his nose had buried into, his own little cocoon. He looked tiny like this, falling asleep against her. It made her feel as if she was a mother already.

The whole concept of parenthood didn't seem as terrifying when she was here, with the Tardis wrapped around her and her husband's protection.

"I'll be too big for you to do this soon," she remarked softly, smiling at the thought of it. She only received an indistinct little noise in response, caught somewhere between a whine of protest and a hum of agreement. She took it as both.

He hadn't exactly welcomed the idea of simply floating in deep space, particularly after over a month of staying still already. While he would never complain- he did value his life- he had liked the idea of travelling with her again, being how they used to be even if it was for the last time in a long while.

But somehow, this was better. He wasn't entirely sure what this woman had done to him, but he could have lain there, snuggled up against her and feeling the sleepy thoughts of their children, until time ran out.

River let him lay there for as long as she could but soon became increasingly uncomfortable, shifting underneath him with a slight wince. She tried to do it as subtly as she could but the wriggling disturbed him, and his head snapped up suddenly. Looking slightly alarmed he twisted his head to the other side to look at her questioningly, a little crinkle between his eyebrows. "I'm sorry; does it hurt?" he asked quietly, the prospect of causing any kind of pain to her clearly perturbing. "I never thought; it's getting quite big now, isn't it? I can sit up, or- or we could swap," he added with a grin.

"Shut up," she muttered, laughing shortly. "It doesn't hurt; you can stay there. Just don't fidget," she decided, not wanting to be a disappointment. It worked; he smiled happily, settling his head back on her stomach, but more carefully this time, and facing her. The smile grew when she pushed his shock of floppy hair out of his eyes. "What were you reading?" he asked, almost drowsily. For someone who hardly ever slept, she seemed to have this effect on him a lot. She supposed it was good that she was a calming influence when she wasn't causing havoc, what with the two tiny people inside her who would need her to be very soon.

"Never you mind," she answered with a raised eyebrow, bopping the tip of his nose and making him scrunch it with a little laugh. Before she could stop him, he had picked the book up from where it lay next to her and held it in front of his face, scanning over the title. "Ooh! I love this one!"

"You say that about literally every book I read," she pointed out wryly.

"Not about the archaeology ones," he retorted, making a disgusted face like a child who had just been forced to eat vegetables. "Why are you reading a book on fairytales?" he asked more softly as he rolled off her stomach and propped himself up on his elbows next to her, flicking through the book with a little awestruck smile on his face as the stories filled his dreamy head. "I didn't know you liked that sort of thing…"

She shrugged lightly, averting her eyes when thinking of an explanation made her abnormally shy. He noticed and his eyes left the crinkled pages to glance up at her, a tiny knowing smile flickering across his face. "Unless… it wasn't for you?" he asked, resting his chin in his hands and looking at her expectantly, eyes shimmering in the deep amber of the fireplace light.

She eyed him warily. "You can't laugh."

"I won't."

She sighed, twirling her now empty hands and gazing at them intently. He waited patiently for her, and when she could put off this humiliating truth no longer, took a deep breath and pronounced her discomfort with a dramatic roll of her eyes before she spoke. "When I was growing up, I never had- stories. All I had as a child were the facts; what I was supposed to do, why I was there. So, to make things better, I had to make up my own stories, for myself; that's why I'm so good at lying." She stopped, slightly taken aback by her own confession, but on seeing the benevolence in his eyes, this little hint of complete understanding that could only be held by him, she carried on. ""It's the things we dream up in our heads that make us happy in the dark times"; you said that to me. I… fell in love with you, because you can tell the most beautiful stories in the whole Universe, and- they healed me, and helped me to sleep, when I didn't think it would be possible." Almost subconsciously, her hand drifted to her stomach and rested there, cradling the little bump and feeling barely-there flutters beneath her fingertips, making her smile timidly. "I want to give our babies all of those stories; every story in the Universe."

Forcing herself to look at him, River noticed that he looked rather moved by her little anecdote. Sentimentalities coming from her were rare, she supposed. If this was the effect they had, she thought, maybe she shouldn't try so hard to hide the damage.

The Doctor's eyes were a little glazed over; he studied her as if she was made of diamond. "I didn't know you liked my stories," he said with some heaviness, as if it meant a great deal to him.

She snorted. "Well, I wasn't going to tell you, was I? You're barely able to shut up as it is. I don't want you getting too smug for your own good; it's already a risk when I mock you on a daily basis."

She grinned down at him, and he could only glare half-heartedly for a second before he did the same. He looked back down at the pages, flicking them over in his hands enthusiastically for a couple of minutes. "Did you read the one with the unicorns?"

River rolled her eyes. "Yes."

His eyes shot up to meet hers on hearing the slight impatience in her voice, and he smiled a ridiculously wide smile. "That's my favourite one!"

"Of course it is."

"Do you want to know why?" he asked, his voice brimming with an excitable intrigue.

"Oh, enlighten me," she answered with a wry smile. "Don't make it too elaborate, though, I'm going to sleep soon. I need to rest."

Concern melted his features for a brief second as his eyes fell upon the little bump of her stomach before he looked back at her, and seeming to come to a decision hopped off the sofa onto his feet, holding out his hand for her to take.

She eyed it warily. "I'm fine here, actually…"

"No, River!" he protested, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet. "I need to show you something. Come on!"

"Sweetie, I'm not in the mood for being whisked away tonight."

"But- but you have to!" he cried. "Five minutes! Please?"

She shrugged, reclining back a little on the sofa as she crossed her legs over and looked up at her husband with sparkling eyes. "Depends… what do I get in return?"

"River!" he whined indignantly, reddening a little at the position she had put herself in, making her smirk.

"Alright, alright, if you're going to sulk about it!" she sighed, taking his hand and pulling herself up. "This had better be worth it."

* * *

"River!" the Doctor cried, gesturing grandly at the snow-white unicorn inches in front of him. "_This_… is Mary!"

"_Mary_?" River echoed doubtfully, raising an eyebrow.

He frowned a little, obviously wanting her to be more impressed. "Well, she says that's her name; who am I to question a unicorn?" He stretched out a hand and ruffled Mary's mane gently, making her snort and creep closer towards him.

He had brought her to a little meadow filled with flowers all the colours of the spectrum on the outskirts of a forest. There was one tree, which they had come to stand under now, with wide feathery leaves and a twisted trunk like something out of a cartoon; the only light came from the millions of stars that the deep indigo sky was peppered with. It was one of the most beautiful places River had ever seen.

"Ok," she said with a wan smile, gingerly stroking Mary's nose, "You have yet again managed to surprise me; well done."

He smiled fondly, although she wasn't looking at him- after decades upon decades of travelling the Universe together finding surprises, especially for a woman like River Song, was quite an achievement.

"So, unicorns are real…"

"Of course unicorns are real!" he exclaimed. "All fairytales are real, River. Where's your imagination?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "_All_ fairytales?" she asked sceptically.

"Yes…! Probably…" He gasped softly when Mary stepped to the side, and revealed a tiny little baby unicorn standing behind her. "Oh, _look_! Mary's a _mum_!"

The little thing, as white as her mother, was still unsteady on her feet but fearless. She tottered forwards, looking at her visitors with huge melting brown eyes, and pressed her nose to the Doctor's hand. "Hello, there!" he whispered excitedly, kneeling down so he was level with the foal. "Well, aren't you beautiful?"

He received a soft whinny in response, before her attention seemed to fix on River. She pushed the tip of her nose against her stomach with a soft snort.

The Doctor, still on his knees, was watching with mild curiosity. Mary nudged the back of his head gently, and he smiled. "Thank you."

River frowned at him, as Mary called her baby back to her side. Their horns glittered under the starlight, something she still couldn't quite believe. "I will," the Doctor was saying, apparently to Mary, as he climbed to his feet. "It was nice to see you too! Bye!"

He waved as the pair turned and trotted off back to the forest, disappearing into the darkness. "See? Five minutes," he said, lifting his wrist and tapping his watch without actually checking the time as if this would actually prove anything.

"You were talking… to a unicorn," she remarked.

He grinned. "I _was_ talking to a unicorn. Don't tell me I'm not cool, wifey!" He tapped her nose lightly, bringing back fond memories.

"Doctor…" She trailed off with a laugh, shaking her head.

"She said congratulations," he said softly when she looked back at him, her eyes still glittering with laughter at his ridiculousness. When she stared at him blankly, he nodded briefly to her stomach. "About- about the babies," he finished, as if this fact wasn't clearly obvious.

River smiled a soft and tender smile that she wouldn't have allowed herself to give him, had it not been for the safety of the darkness around them. "Did she now?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yeah," he said, and on noticing that she still had her eyebrows raised and was looking at him as if he was utterly insane, he clarified in a serious tone, "I speak unicorn."

River pressed her lips together for a second, looking almost pitiful, but then she did something that was rather wonderfully unexpected; she giggled, this happy, carefree little laugh and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her nose into his shoulder.

Hearing her laugh was far rarer than he'd have liked it to be; it was one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever experienced in his endless lifetime, something he lived each day to hear, to make happen. It made him smile against her wild hair as he held her close. It made him want to whisper things to her that he had not uttered to anyone for a very long time.

When she pulled back she smiled up at him and reached up to kiss the tip of his nose, making him scrunch it, which made her laugh. "Sweetie?" she sang softly.

"Yes, River?" he asked with a grin, his hands still on her hips and swaying her gently from side to side in a half-hearted dance.

"If you ever call me "wifey" again, I'll shoot you," she said in the same falsely sweet tone. He scowled at her, stopped swaying and puffed out a small indignant sigh.

He knew, however, that he had finally done something right in taking her and the bump here, away from everything. There was a returned sparkle in her eyes which had been snuffed out by fear since the pregnancy, until now.

"Do I not get some brownie points for taking you to see unicorns? Because, you know, as dates go… I think that's up there, in- in the top- date- list of… things…" The Doctor trailed off uselessly, not quite sure how the sentence should end.

"Hmm," River's eyes wandered away to the stars. "I could do with some brownies, now you mention it… chocolate ones, actually… with hot sauce…"

He sighed. "River…"

She flashed him a smile. "I'm allowed to be high maintenance, sweetie. It comes free with the pregnancy."

"You've _always_ been high maintenance," he observed. When she stared him down he sighed, and laced his fingers through hers. "Come on, then."

"Where are we going?" she asked brightly, in a way that told him she knew she had won.

"Brownie-making," he answered, skipping with her back to the Tardis.

* * *

"Brownie-making" entailed the Doctor stumbling around the kitchen like a baby giraffe, trying to find and transport ingredients to the mixing bowl without dropping them- a lot of times without success- while his wife sat on the counter next to him, watching with a smirk and occasionally stealing half of the chocolate sauce when he wasn't watching.

He frowned down at the bowl incredulously when he came back over, picking it up and examining it as if trying to deduce where the sauce had disappeared to. "River, I'll never get them finished if you keep doing that!"

"Doing what? I'm just sitting here, sweetie, I have no _idea_ what you're talking about…"

"You're very bad," he scolded gently and as he whisked the mixture. It was said with adorable innocence, but being River she could make something out of it.

"You'll have to punish me."

"Maybe I will." He stopped when he said this, looking up from the mixing bowl with a slightly confused frown. "Hey- don't do that."

"Do what, sweetie?"

"That- that thing that you do!" he said, as if this explained everything clearly.

She smirked. "It takes two to tango, Doctor."

She loved that she could still make him blush after all this time; it was stupidly easy to do so, and he knew how much she enjoyed it. He simply shook his head, words eluding him as they often did where she was concerned. There were little dustings of flour sticking to his hair like snow.

Forty minutes and a lot of rather one-sided flirting later the Doctor pulled off the polka-dot oven mitts he was wearing to arrange the brownies on a plate, drenching them in chocolate sauce. River, who had grown bored eventually, had wandered off to the blue velvet sofa in the corner of the kitchen to read another book of Gallifreyan fairytales to memorise for their children.

"Voila!" he cried, grinning proudly at the plate of perfect brownies. "River, look!" he exclaimed, spinning on his heel and holding up the plate with a beam. "You should eat them while they're still…" He stopped, his feet freezing on their way over on seeing that River was curled up and fast asleep, her head resting on the arm of the sofa. "…Warm," he finished in a whisper, lowering the plate and gazing at her for a second, admiring how very at peace she looked when she was sleeping. He had done this a lot in the past weeks, and could not see himself ever growing bored of it.

His brow crinkled as he tried to think of a solution to his problem. Thinking better of waking her- she would almost positively murder him- he very carefully placed the brownies on the bench, slipped off his jacket and gently draped it over her. She snuffled in her sleep, smiling drowsily and snuggling down into the material of his coat with a contented sigh. He left her there until morning, feeding her the brownies for breakfast when she awoke.

* * *

"Have you had a nice birthday weekend?"

"Yes," River answered with a playful hint of condescension, watching her husband as he frolicked around the console. She was perched on the controls right next to the handbrake, so he had no option but to lean in close to her every couple of minutes. It was little wonder that he hadn't told her to move. "Where now?" she asked him brightly.

"Well, I was thinking we should probably be getting you back home."

A disappointed grunt came from her before she could stop it, making the Doctor glance up at her anxiously. "What's the matter?"

She picked at the controls sulkily, well aware of the childish nature she had acquired with the pregnancy but past caring. "I don't _want _to go back! Not yet…"

He offered her his hands, pulling her gently off the controls and onto her feet. "You have to go, River; you know that. It's dangerous enough out here for grown-up people, let alone tiny ones."

"But they're inside _me_! They're inside a trained-from-birth psychopathic expert time traveller, Doctor- they'll be fine! Just a few more days?" she pleaded, tugging on his hands imploringly.

He shook his head with an apologetic smile. "I'm not taking the risk, River, I'm sorry. You'll be safe at home; that's what's important."

"But _sweetie_…"

"I'll stay with you."

She blinked, the pleas and many methods of convincing she had planned in her head dissolving into nothing with his words. "What?"

"I'll stay," he repeated, swinging her hands from side to side with a timid smile. "If you'll still have me; and the Ponds, I'll have to ask the Ponds…"

"But- you've already stayed for over a month, I… no. You're not staying," she decided, trying to sound firm.

Apparently she'd succeeded; his face fell. "Why?"

"Because, I…!" She trailed off with a huff, the ability to lie failing her.

"Oh, how didn't _I_ think of that reason?"

River scowled at his giggle. "Don't get all sarcastic. We both know that's my job."

"That's true."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hey. Watch it."

"You said it."

"You're not supposed to agree."

He smiled, hands slipping to wrap around her waist. "See; every day I learn new things about marriage."

"Yet you still know _so_ little."

"Oi. I know I'm staying with you."

"No, you are not."

"Ok, if you insist…" he agreed. She felt a surprised pang of disappointment, but of course he didn't let that last. "Oh! It's for the best; I'd completely forgot I'm actually supposed to be staying with my best friends for the next few weeks, so I'm busy anyway. Sorry."

She pursed her lips. "Your best friends as in my parents, who I am also staying with?"

He gasped. "Wow! What a coincidence! Oh well, everything worked out in the end. Looks like I'm staying with you after all- can't argue with coincidence."

"You're the most impossibly irritating man I've ever met."

"I would take it as an insult if I wasn't, dear." He tapped her nose, and her giggle warmed his hearts.


	18. Catch-Up With the Captain

**~ An old (and very… special) friend visits the Doctor and River at the Pond house. ~**

**Based on the concept that River and this visitor are already friends; look at them both, of course they are. River would make sure of it.**

* * *

River skipped into the kitchen in a loose-fitting flowery top and jeans, humming a tune under her breath.

Amy frowned at her. "Is that my dress?"

River's face fell. "It's supposed to be a _dress_? Dear god. It was the baggiest thing I could find! _Sweetie_!" she groaned.

"What?"

"It's happening! I'm turning into a planet!"

He smiled through a mouthful of toast.

She pulled the fridge door open with a heavy sigh as her father wandered into the kitchen.

"Doctor, um, someone's at the door to see you, says his name's Jack…?"

The fridge door slammed shut. River looked across at the Doctor slowly, a mischievous smirk spreading across her face.

Amy and Rory watched them as they ensued in some form of bizarre stand-off; the Doctor eyed his wife warily, taking a step towards the kitchen door as she did the same before standing still, as if trying to determine who was going to shoot first.

River did. She bolted for the door like a flash of lightning with a giggle, the Doctor haring after her until both of them disappeared from sight.

"What was that about?" Rory asked with a bemused frown.

"I don't know, Mr Pond… let's go and find out!"

When they followed them into the hallway, their jaws dropped. There was a dark-haired man in a long overcoat on their doorstep with his hands on their daughter's face, kissing her full on the lips.

Amy and Rory exchanged worried glances, which transformed into ones of downright confusion when the man put River down and swept the Doctor up in exactly the same embrace.

"Jack, do you _have_ to do that every time?" the Doctor asked with a wince when the man pulled away, scrubbing his mouth with his sleeve.

"I'm not complaining," River smirked, folding her arms over her stomach, accentuating the little bump beneath the dress-top. The man's- Jack's- eyes fell on it, and he gasped dramatically, pointing and talking in a thick American drawl. "I _knew_ something felt different about you, River Song! Is that what I think it is?"

He hopped back to River, leaving the Doctor looking slightly relieved, and placed his hands on her tummy. "Whoa!"

"Twins," she told him, with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

"Oh my God, seriously, River, this is real?!"

"Of course it's real, you idiot. It's not a cushion up there!"

"Hah!" He pulled her into a hug, making her giggle. "Well, congratulations! I didn't see that one coming, I've got to say! Mind you, a pregnant River Song- _I'm _not complaining!"

"Ok. Put her down, Jack," the Doctor muttered wryly.

"You should probably do what he says," River whispered, winking at Jack and cupping the bump. "These are his, after all."

"What? No _way_! Doctor, what have you done to my girl?!" he cried.

River cackled. "I'll tell you later, honey. Not in front of my parents."

The Doctor shook his head at her, casting an apologetic glance at the Ponds as if just noticing they were there.

"They'll be some damn beautiful babies!"

By now utterly lost, Amy looked at the Doctor with a bewildered expression, silently asking for some form of clarity. "Ponds… I'd like to, slightly reluctantly, introduce you to Jack Harkness."

"Well, _hello_!" Jack purred, snaking over to where Amy and Rory stood. "You must be Amy Pond; enchanté! I've heard a _lot_ about you."

"Has he got worse?" the Doctor murmured to River under his breath.

She grinned up at him. "He's got _better_."

"Well, that's a matter of opinion."

"The flirtier the better, sweetie; always the rule," she smiled.

Jack took hold of Amy's hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Is that so?" she asked in a tone that earned her a disapproving scowl from Rory.

"It is. And might I say, I now see where River gets her drop-dead _gorgeous _looks from-"

"Jack," the Doctor warned. "Married… both of them…"

"You don't say! Hello handsome!" He grinned, sliding over to Rory. "My, what an attractive family!" he exclaimed. "Please tell me I'm invited to dinner, although I'm not sure my heart will be able to take it!"

Rory looked a little lost. "Uh…"

"You'll get used to him," the Doctor piped up.

"What's a man like you doing in a place like this, anyway?" River asked, hopping over to Jack with a positively gleeful look on her face.

"Well, pretty lady," he answered, draping his arm around her. "Your husband called me. Said you needed 'cheering up'; I jumped at the invitation, of course, though I may have misunderstood it…"

"You can cheer me up in whichever way you see fit, sweetie."

"I can think of a few methods that have worked in the past…"

"Well, we'll have to try them out, won't we?"

"We certainly will."

The Doctor pressed his lips together, looking slightly fraught. "This may have been a mistake. Ponds- don't leave them in a room together. Actually, don't leave them together in… well, any space with a surface."

"Who needs surfaces?" River smirked.

"My thoughts exactly," Jack declared before spinning around and scooping River up into his arms, letting her wrap her legs around his waist and carrying her into the kitchen.

"Who the hell _is_ that?" Rory asked incredulously, all three of them watching River and Jack with perturbed expressions.

"He's just an old friend."

"With your wife's legs wrapped around his waist," Amy smirked.

"It's just… that sort of relationship," he explained, sounding a little uncertain. "They're always like that."

"Doesn't it bother you?" Rory whispered.

He shrugged. "It's River; it's not like there's anything I could do if it did."

"He's like a male version of River!" Amy giggled.

The Doctor grimaced. "_Please_ don't say that."

* * *

"Are they his though? Seriously?" Jack persisted with a playful grin. "Come on. You can be honest with me; I won't tell him, I promise."

"Yes!" River laughed. "They're his; seriously."

"For sure?" he asked.

"Yes! Jack, I am married to him. And despite the constant attention I receive on our nights out, I'll have you know I'm a one-man woman. Beyond flirting and the occasional hallucinogenic kiss, they don't get a look-in."

He narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. "I don't believe you."

She smiled softly, looking down at her tea. "You know what he's like, Jack; what he does to you. Nobody else even stood a chance."

"Well, yeah, I mean, he's the Doctor, but… he's the _Doctor_. I didn't know he had it in him. God, this is weird! What's he _like_?"

"Oh, I'm not going to tell you that. You'll want him for yourself."

"You tease, River Song." He leaned forwards, eyes glittering. "Really though, is he good?"

She smirked, taking a sip of her tea. "What do you think? I'll tell you what, though. Being pregnant and living in my parents' house is doing _nothing_ for my sex life."

"You poor thing! Can't you just have a quickie on here while they're asleep?"

"Well, obviously that would be the sensible thing to do. But no, no, it's all, '_River_, they eat _breakfast_ on this table!' Honestly. It's like trying to draw blood from a stone."

"Doesn't you being pregnant make it harder? The no sex, I mean, not his…"

She sniggered. "I know what you mean. The hormones are only doing angry and emotional right now- I haven't reached that stage yet. God help him when I do; I'll eat him alive." The corner of her mouth curled upwards.

"Now, that's something I'd like to see."

"To be honest, I don't fancy the idea much anyway. I mean, I'm all bloated and fat; I'm exhausted and emotional all the time. If I were him, I wouldn't touch me with a bargepole. Really, it's enough that he agrees to be in the same room as me."

"Well, he loves you," Jack said casually, as if this fact was abundantly clear. Maybe it was; just not to her. Then again, she was paranoid at the best of times. "And you look gorgeous to me!"

She laughed. "Thanks, hon."

"What does he think about the whole baby thing? How did he react when you told him? I can't even imagine… did he freak out?"

"No, actually," she told him, still surprised about this fact. "I thought he would, but- he seems quite into all of it. He's really excited, bless him."

* * *

**~ Later that day; it's time for the Doctor to be a little insecure. ~**

* * *

River suddenly giggled to herself, making a crinkle appear between the Doctor's eyebrows. "What's so funny?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, nothing, it's… just something Jack said earlier."

She caught his little huff, his shoulders drooping. "Of course it is…"

River felt a little pang of sympathy for him, slightly to her own surprise. "Have I been making you feel left out, sweetie?"

He twisted his mouth to the side for a moment, but then shook his head. "No. No. As long as you're happy," he said in a quiet voice, with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I am," she answered softly. He was looking down, so didn't see the look she gave him; he may have been reassured sooner if he had. "Why did you phone Jack, anyway?"

"He told you. To come and see you, for a catch-up," he explained casually, placing the lid back on the biscuit tin.

"Yeah, but why? You must have had a bigger reason than that."

With a little sigh, he placed the Jammie Dodger on its side like a wheel and rolled it from hand to hand pensively. "Because you needed cheering up… and… I don't seem to be very good at it."

She stared at him in dismay, a horrible beat of silence passing between them. She felt tears well in her eyes; he didn't notice, giving a little shake of his head when she didn't respond to his words. "Ok, so anyway, I'll leave you alone-"

"Whoa." She curled her hand around his sleeve, yanking him back when he attempted to walk away.

He turned back to her reluctantly, keeping his eyes down as if he was frightened he was going to get into trouble. "Come here," she instructed gently. He took a tiny, tiny step towards her, and she smiled at his shyness, taking hold of his hands. "Come on."

It took her a while to actually persuade him to close the distance between them. When he gave in, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her nose into his shoulder.

She felt his arms go around her tentatively; she supposed he was slightly wary that she was going to push him away, but she didn't.

They stayed like this for minutes, lost in their very own beautiful little pocket of time. The late afternoon sun was just setting outside, casting a beautiful orange glow over their heads.

She pulled back when she was satisfied that she'd healed him enough that he no longer needed holding, and told him what she hoped would bring the light back into his eyes.

"Two months ago, I was more terrified than I'd ever been; I was lost, I was alone, and miserable- I had no idea what I was going to do. Now, I feel happy and calm and safe, and… I so want to be a mum. And what's more, I believe I can be; I can see it, now. Now, _I_ didn't do that, Doctor." She brushed his hair away from his eyes, keeping her hand on the side of his face. "I couldn't have done _any_ of this without you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here, but you are. I need you more than ever, and you're here, even though you have a Tardis outside. Do you know how much that means to me?"

He looked down at his shoes coyly. "It's hardly a lot to ask, River. You're my wife, and you're pregnant; it shouldn't be such a shock that I'm staying with you. And it's not. I mean, I don't even do anything- I _can't_ do anything."

"You make me feel better," she said quietly. "That's something."

"Do I?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes, sweetie, you do." She smiled, smoothing his jacket shoulders. "And as much as I love Jack, he can't cheer me up like you can. No-one makes me feel even half as happy as you do, so… you must be doing something right."

When he still looked a little uncertain, she let her hands slide down his arms to take hold of his, and gently brought them to rest on her stomach. "I'm having your children, honey. I think it's safe to say that I don't think you're half bad."


	19. Candyfloss

**~ River is now four months pregnant, and the hormones are wreaking havoc on the Doctor's favourite part of her. Well, one of his favourite parts, assumingly. ~**

* * *

The Doctor frowned at her when she sauntered into the kitchen, slipping into a chair at the dining table. "Why do you have a towel on your head?"

River raised an eyebrow at him patronisingly. "All women do this, sweetie."

"Well, yes, but you got out of the shower about two and a half hours ago…"

She sighed impatiently, heaving herself out of the chair to edge away from him. He followed, the two of them ensuing in a little dance around the kitchen. "I just want to leave it on, ok?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to- Doctor, stop it!" she cried indignantly when he reached for the towel. "Get off! Leave me alone! I'm pregnant!"

He stopped obligingly, lulling her into a false sense of security. She had barely relaxed for a second when he lunged for the towel, whipping it off her head in one swift motion.

"Ugh! I _hate_ you!" She glowered at him intensely, although it didn't quite have the desired effect due to what the removal of the towel had revealed. Despite the scowl, she looked so comical that the Doctor couldn't help a giggle escaping his lips.

"River, what did you do?"

"_Nothing_!" she moaned despairingly, wrapping her arms around her head in an attempt to smooth down her hair. He had never seen anything quite like it; it defied gravity itself- even more than it usually did- with bits springing out here and there and pointing toward the ceiling like aerials. Her curls had all dissolved into one huge ball of golden frizz. "I just washed it, and it went like this! _Bloody_ hormones!"

He bit back a smile. "It looks like candyfloss."

"Shut up." She tugged on it roughly, as if trying to straighten it with the sheer strength of her fingers. "Dear god. I knew this would happen! I'm getting more unattractive day by day! By the time they're here I'll look like I should belong under a bloody bridge!"  
"It's not that bad, River."

"Not that bad? I'm a big fat waddling candyfloss!"

Seeing that her eyes were beginning to well with tears, he closed the distance between them with one hop. "Hey. Stop it, ok? All of this is normal; and it's beautiful. It's called pregnancy, honey."

"Look at my _hair_."

"Well, it was hardly straight in the first place. It looks nice."  
She looked up at him doubtfully as he tucked it behind her ears. "You said it looked like candyfloss."

"What's wrong with candyfloss? It's delicious!"

Pretending to eat her hair most likely would not have gone down well in ordinary circumstances; the Doctor had his wife's hormones to thank when she ended up doubled over with laughter in the middle of the kitchen.


	20. The Desire to be a Seahorse

**~ River is forced to consider the repulsive concept of maternity clothes by her mother and husband… ~**

* * *

"So, then we found out that Cleopatra was actually…" The Doctor trailed off mid-anecdote, his eyes falling onto River.

She looked up from her toast. "What?"

"Is that my shirt?"

She looked down at herself, biting her lip. "My shirt wouldn't fit," she mumbled reluctantly, her voice already wavering.

Amy glared at the Doctor; silently blaming him for what they sensed was going to be another emotional outburst. They were fairly common these days.

"None of my clothes fit any more…" she went on, fixing her toast with a melancholy gaze.

"There are loads in the Tardis-"

"I'm not having your bloody hand-me-downs! I like _my_ clothes, but they won't go on over my stupid- beach ball-!"

She pushed her toast away with a sob, resting her forehead heavily on the table with a thud.

He sat down next to her, gently sliding a hand under her chin to lift her up. "Don't you have any loose-fitting clothes?"

She raised an incredulous eyebrow. "If you have to ask that, you don't know me, sweetie. I think if my clothes _were_ more loose-fitting, we wouldn't be in _this_ situation. Ironic, isn't it?" she muttered with a derisive smile, her chin still resting in his hand. He heard Amy snort with laughter behind him.

"Why don't you go shopping?" he suggested. "You could buy some, um… maternity clothes?"

She pulled a face. "Ugh. Have you seen maternity clothes? No _thank_ you."

"Now, River; you're going to have to give in at some stage. You still have twenty-three weeks to go, and you're already…"

It was incredibly lucky for him that he decided not to finish that sentence. She pressed her eyes shut with a groan. "Don't remind me. Why can't we be seahorses? Then you'd have to do this bit, and I could swim around and meet other seahorses and be free in the ocean…"

"I'll take you shopping," Amy piped up. "They do have some nice maternity clothes; it's not all cliché slogans and stretchy leggings, you know."

She eyed her mother sceptically, leaning her head to the side so her cheek rested in the Doctor's palm.

"There you go! Problem solved," he assured her.

"Get ready to stop fancying me," she murmured sulkily.

He smiled. "No."

* * *

**~ Later: River isn't too happy about succumbing to maternity wear; of course, it's the Doctor's job to cheer her up. ~**

* * *

"I had to literally force her to buy the clothes," Amy whispered. "I think she cried about six times. Look after her, ok?"

The Doctor brow crinkled. "What do I do?"

"I'll tell you what you do! You persuade her to try the clothes on because no matter what happens she'll always be beautiful and you'll always love her and blah, blah, blah, and whatever she decides to wear, you tell her she looks _sexy_! Got it?"

"Um…"

"Don't go all coy with me, Mister! We all know what you two did seventeen weeks ago!" she hissed.

He cleared his throat, looking away guiltily. "Yes. Well. I'll, um- I'll- go and talk to her."

"Good boy."

* * *

River was sitting with her legs crossed underneath her in the middle of the bed when her husband came in, the shopping bags spread out around her in heaps.

"Do you want me to help you put them away?" he asked. "I can put your other ones in the Tardis, for when you need them again-"

"I'll never need them again," she muttered, picking at her thumb.

He smiled kindly and came to sit opposite her, moving the bags out of the way and crossing his legs to mirror hers. "River, you won't be pregnant forever."

"It doesn't all spring back into place, you know! That's not how it works!"

"I know."

"Most women never go back to how they were before!"

"It doesn't matter."

She sniffed. "Yes it does."

"Why?"

River shrugged, bowing her head so her hair fell as a curtain around her face. "Did my mother tell you to come and reassure me?"

He laughed softly. "She did. But I would have anyway."

"What did she say?"

"That I had to say you were sexy."

She smiled weakly. "To lie through your teeth, then…"

He shook his head, picking up a bag from beside him and digging through it.

She groaned. "Don't look at the clothes."

"Why? They look nice."

"But they're not me. This… isn't…" She cupped her stomach for less than a second before pressing her hands to her face, flopping backwards on the bed with a heavy sigh so that her head rested on the pillows.

Sensing this was one of the occasions where he would have to give her a bit of time, he thought the least he could do was attempt to be helpful seeing as he could do very little else.

He hummed a tune to himself as he collected the bags from around her, taking her old clothes from the wardrobe and folding them up neatly to put away in the Tardis. When that was finished and her hands were still planted firmly on her face he took out the new clothes, putting the tops on hangers and placing the bottoms on their respective shelves. She had bought a _lot_ of things, for someone so appalled by the concept of maternity clothes.

It only took about five minutes, but with the silence that he was not accustomed to it seemed like an age. He had grown very used to her voice, he realised; Song by name, song by nature.

He wrung his hands nervously, studying her for a while. Her bump was especially prominent when she was like this, stretching the fabric of his shirt. How she could think it was a bad thing, how she could believe it was anything other than beautiful, was utterly beyond him. But then, he supposed he was biased. It was his bump, after all.

"River?" he prompted gently. Her hands fell limply away from her face, but she kept her eyes tightly closed.

He crept forwards and perched next to her on the bed, brushing a stray curl out of her eyes.

"I'm just tired," she muttered wearily, still refusing to see the world. "I don't expect you to put up with me. Come back later, ok? Actually, come back in five months; that'll work."

"But then I won't get to see the rest of this." He rested his hand gently on her swollen stomach. It was strange, in a wonderful sort of way, to think that there were the beginnings of people who were part of him and part of her just inches away from his fingertips.

"Do you really want to?" she asked flatly.

"I do, as it happens." He rubbed the bump, making her sigh impatiently.

"You must be mad. Why do I have to get so fat? Why can't I be… bigger on the inside?" she muttered.

"Because you're not a spaceship; you're a living, breathing, gorgeous woman."

She snorted. "Two out of three…"

He was going to need some help with this one. Swivelling around so that he was lying down next to her, he carefully laid his head on her warm tummy and turned his head just enough to talk into it in a soft murmur especially reserved for the tiny ears that would receive it.

"Hello," he whispered. "It's your dad here. Listen, Mummy's feeling a bit sad right now, so if you could move about in there a bit and remind her that she has two very little but very important reasons to be happy, then you'd be helping her out a lot. And you should, because she's really rather wonderful."

A sudden sharp kick in her abdomen made her gasp. The Doctor's head sprung up in surprise, a dazed grin lighting up his face when another kick followed, then another, and then another, a force of tiny feet beating against her.

"How did you do that?" she cried.

He shook his head. "I don't know, I didn't even think it would work!"

She laughed, this beautiful bubbly laugh that made his hearts skip, holding her fingers to her mouth. He took a moment to look up at her with a fond smile before he pressed his ear back to the bump. "Hello, Miss-slash-Mister Song One, and Miss-slash-Mister Song Two," he murmured, making River giggle. "We can't wait to meet you both, you know. And I'll tell you something." He pulled his head back to press two kisses to River's stomach, one for each of their children. "You're both going to be very beautiful; just like your mummy, who's beautiful whether she has a big tummy full of you two or not."

He would spend hour upon hour each following night whispering stories of the Universe and utterances of love to their children.


	21. Hot Pancakes

**~ The hormones are causing some… interesting symptoms. Enjoy. ~**

* * *

"You know what pancakes are nice with, Doctor?"

River drawled his name out like an invitation, voice laden with a husky tint that made the hairs on the back of the Doctor's neck stand up.

She didn't wait for him to answer; just as well, as given the inviting tone of her voice he was a little afraid to. "Some banana slices. What do you think?"

He relaxed a little, allowing the breath that had been captive in his lungs to escape. "Yes, that sounds, um, good. So, milk, flour- oh, do you want to get the… eggs…?"  
His eyes flickered to her momentarily, and became stuck there. The Doctor felt warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. She had the banana in her mouth, though apparently no intention of eating it.

"Aren't you going to…?" He swallowed. "Cut that up?"

She responded with no more than a wink, lips closing over the banana and lingering for a ridiculous amount of time. It was a relief when she finally bit into it, though momentary; the low humming noise that came from the back of her throat made his shirt collar shrink.

Realising that he had been gawping at her for an amount of time that wasn't entirely appropriate, he pressed his mouth shut and cleared his throat rapidly, pulling at his collar as he turned away. "Um, well, let's, um- pancakes."

He could sense her eyes burning into him, that damn banana still in her hand. "Is it hot in here?"

He heard the smirk in her voice. It sort of made him want to just forget about the pancakes. He ran a hand through his hair. "No, I don't know what you- hot? No…"

Mistakenly, he allowed himself to look at her once again. The only thing that drew him away was a sharp pain like a dagger shooting through his palm.

He drew it away from the oven with a wince. "Ow…"

"Did you burn yourself?"  
"Um, a bit, yes," he mumbled reluctantly.

"Oh, sweetie, let me help." She closed the distance between them.

"No! No." The Doctor held his hand out of her reach, rather awkwardly walking his feet backwards because he was slightly afraid of what would happen if he let her get hold of him. He found himself looking over his shoulder, partly thinking about the embarrassment that would ensue if his parents-in-law were to walk in and partly wishing they would to save him from his increasingly close wife.

Giving in, he let her inspect his hand. She didn't seem particularly interested in it, eyes locking in his after a few seconds of soothing him. "I know what'll make you feel better."

"River…"

He could feel her breath on his lips, and struggled to get away from her like a rabbit in a snare. Unfortunately, this particular snare was rather strong.

"Come on, sweetie… don't you want to?"

He swallowed. "Your parents… might… um…"

"My parents aren't here." She grinned, adjusting his bow tie with a whisper. "No excuses now, honey."

It was only when she was this preposterously close to him that he could fully appreciate the somewhat revealing nature of her new jumper, wine-red and clinging to her curves. Giving in was becoming a rather appealing concept.

"Saw you," she smirked when he let his eyes wander south, turning his cheeks crimson.

She closed in before he could say anything in his defence, but he managed to scramble away before her lips met his. "River, stop it," he said with a feeble attempt at authoritativeness.

Her face fell. "Why?"

"Because…" She followed his steps as he backed away from her, leading them in a waltz around the kitchen. It only took a minute for him to find himself trapped up against the bench. She was pressed against him before he could escape, a victorious smile dancing on her face as it hovered alluringly close to his. He foolishly let himself breathe, and the enchanting tang of her perfume invaded his nostrils.

He felt sorry for his wife, in hindsight. She had finally got him where she wanted, was just about to draw him into a surrendering kiss, when the slam of the front door made them spring apart.

"Hi! We're home!"

River exhaled in frustration; the Doctor in relief.


	22. Synchronised Insanity

**~ Another immense thank-you to all readers, followers and reviewers. **

**This is just a little one, taking place in the middle of the night between husband, wife and bump. ~**

* * *

A search for his wife at two o'clock in the morning led the Doctor to the kitchen, of course. A pang of panic that had gripped him when he had woken up from a doze to find that she wasn't next to him was relieved when he found a pyjama-clad, frizzy-haired silhouette curled up on the floor next to the fridge.

"Hello," he whispered. River's head shot up from the tub she was currently cradling, and he heard her groan through a mouthful of ice cream. "What are you doing?" he asked bemusedly, sinking onto his knees to be level with her on the kitchen floor.

She waved the spoon in her hand. "I was hungry. Ice cream does the job."

"Hungry at two in the morning?" he questioned with a little smile.

A scowl set in on her face. "I'm always hungry." She concentrated on balancing the ice cream on her stomach. "Look. I might resemble a bowling ball, but at least I can do tricks. Sweetie, tell me: I am eating ice cream, on the floor, in the middle of the night; have I gone mad?"

"Honey, my staple diet consists of fish fingers, custard and Jammie Dodgers. At least you have an excuse." He reached up to get another spoon out of the kitchen drawer, and then shuffled closer to her. "And I'm on the floor in the middle of the night too, so I suppose that makes us both mad."

"Well, that's alright then."

They sat on the tiles, exchanging whispers until the dawn's rosy light fell upon them.


	23. The Anniversary Party

**Because it can't be said enough, thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the reviews. You're all sweeties, and that is not a term of endearment used lightly within this fandom. **

**~ River, who is now eighteen weeks pregnant, and the Doctor plan a surprise anniversary party for Amy and Rory. But during the party, things take a turn for the worse. ~**

* * *

"Ok! The cupcakes are baked, which makes all the food ready- I just need to put it out in around… fifteen minutes. Drinks are done, balloons are tied, banners are up…"

The Doctor was talking to himself, more than anyone else; River had disappeared upstairs to get ready a good forty minutes ago. Prising off his polka-dot oven mitts, he straightened his black bow tie, smoothed his hair back and checked his watch. "River?" he called, receiving no response.

After calling her name again and being met with silence, he flounced out of the kitchen and made his way upstairs.

"River, is everything alright?"

"Go away!" an impatient voice yelled, floating through the tightly closed spare bedroom door.

He stopped in his tracks, leaning against the doorframe. "What's wrong?"

"Leave me alone."

She sounded a bit distressed, which made him a bit distressed. He tried the door, but it was locked. "You can't come in," he heard her shout firmly.

"Amy will be home in less than half an hour," he reminded her. "Will you be ready by then?"

There were a few seconds of silence, making him wonder if they'd reached that inevitable point in the conversation where she just stopped listening to him. Then, "I'm not going."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not going to the stupid party!"

"But… but we planned it; it's taken us all day! Come downstairs, River, we can do the whole "surprise" thing when Amy comes in like we said, it'll be fun-"

"No. You can't make me."

She said he was childish. He decided not to tell her how utterly adorable he found it when she was like this. She'd probably shoot him if he called her cute. "Are you going to tell me why?"

"No."

"Ok. What should I tell Amy and Rory?"

"I don't know, just- tell them I'm too ill and tired and- pregnant! Tell them I eloped with Jack to Las Vegas and the babies are his- I don't _care_."

He smiled, a little nervously. "You're not thinking of doing that, are you?"

"Maybe," she murmured.

"In that case, you'd better let me in so I can try to convince you otherwise."

"No."

"Please?"

"No!"

"Why?"

He heard her sigh impatiently. "Doctor, just go to the party and forget about me, ok? I don't want to go."

"It won't be as fun without you."

"I'm sure you'll live."

"I'm not going if you're not going," he sang.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll just get in the way anyway, with my bloody- hugeness!"

He pressed his lips together, beginning to sense what this was about. "Ah. What's wrong with the dress?"

"It's not the dress," she muttered bitterly, with some reluctance. "It's _me_!"

He sighed patiently. "Let me see, River."

"No. In fact, I've made a decision. I'll just not come out, ok, and- we can construct a cat flap in the door to bring me food, and I'll have the babies and just- bring them up in here for a while, and do lots of exercise; and when I get my figure back, _then_ you can see me!"

He rested his head heavily against the door in exasperation, when an old idea occurred to him. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want to let me in?"

"Positive," she affirmed. "I'll see you in about a year."

"Alright, then…" He pulled the sonic out of his pocket. "You leave me no choice. Sorry about this."

With a quick whirr, the door clicked open.

"Ugh! I hate you!"

She stood in the centre of the room with a mildly furious expression on her face, hands on hips; a stance he was more than used to. It generally made him feel a little uneasy, if not downright scared, but he could do nothing other than gaze at her with an adorable smile when she looked like this.

He faintly recognised the dress, from having hung it in the wardrobe for her last week. It was a deep blue satin material that flowed down to her ankles, collected just above the waist with a black velvet tie which served to accentuate her beautifully rounded stomach. She was wearing her hair loose so that the springy curls bounced on her shoulders, and her make-up was perfect; she'd made sure of that, given that she hadn't worn any for about a month. Still, to her, it hadn't made a difference. The pregnancy was not doing wonders for her self-esteem.

He really did try his best to understand her during all of this, but one thing he struggled with above all else was the fact that she could think she was anything other than stunning. It was easily the biggest change in her he'd seen through all of this- she used to relish just walking into rooms full of strangers just for the satisfaction of hearing jaws drop; she'd told him that on many occasions. Now, she wouldn't even leave her own bedroom.

But he'd soon fix that. There was one more little detail that broadened the smile on his face; she was wearing the diamond necklace he had given her.

"You look absolutely beautiful, River."

"You have to say that," she huffed, folding her arms over her bump and looking away.

"Ah, but you know when I'm lying. Do I look like I'm lying?"

She met his eyes reluctantly. "Maybe you've just got good at it."

He shook his head with a patient smile, taking hold of her hands. "Come here. Come and look."

"No!" she protested, trying to pull away from where he was leading her. "I don't want to!"

"Don't be daft. I know how much you love a mirror, River Song."

He steered her over to the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room, keeping her there by planting his hands on her shoulders. "See?"

She smoothed the material over her hips pensively, puffing out her cheeks and turning to the side. "I'm huge," she remarked flatly, placing a hand on her stomach.

"That tends to happen when you're growing new people, dear."

"What am I going to look like in four months? I won't be able to stand up!"

"Then I'll carry you everywhere."

She laughed weakly. "I doubt you'll be able to pick me up by then, sweetie."

"I'll always be able to pick you up."

"That was weirdly very romantic of you."

She caught his smug smile in the mirror just before he took her hand and spun her around. "Come downstairs."

"Do I have to?" she asked wearily.

"Yep," he grinned. "I need someone to dance with."

"I suppose." She rubbed her stomach, looking down at it pensively. "They're quiet today. I haven't felt them moving around as much as usual."

He placed his hands on the bump, sensing that she still wasn't entirely better and he'd have to put his shyness to one side to reassure her, something he'd grown rather used to doing over the past months; he'd never had to remind someone just how gorgeous they were as many times in his whole life, but he didn't mind. If he could make her smile, he was ok.

She watched him bemusedly as he sunk to his knees in front of her, keeping his hands on her stomach. He pressed his nose to the bump as he closed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly.

He glanced up at her with an impish grin. "I'm saying hello." He peppered kisses in little circles along her stomach.

"That tickles, stop it."

"Are you ticklish?"

"You know I am. No. No, Doctor-" She squealed hysterically when he hopped to his feet to tickle her. "Stop it!"

He let go of her obligingly, even though she was lost in peals of laughter.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

* * *

"Happy anniversary!" the Doctor cried, gesturing at the room flamboyantly the moment his best friend stepped through the door

Amy gasped. "Oh, my God, Doctor!" She leapt forwards to hug him, laughing breathlessly.

"What do you think?" he asked when she pulled back.

She shook her head, a huge grin on her face. "How did you do this?"

"Well, I've had all day, and… a lot of help from my lovely wife," he grinned.

Right on cue, River appeared behind her in the doorway, being swept up into a hug by her mother.

"This is amazing!" Amy exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"

"Well, we try."

"Where's the Roman?"

"On his way home, apparently; he should be here in about twenty minutes."

"Oh, good, then he'll be here when the guests arrive!" the Doctor grinned.

Amy frowned at him. "The guests?" she echoed.

"I invited everyone from the last party that I could remember," River smiled. "Well, except for Harriett. We don't want another sick on the sofa incident."

"Wow! You two are… amazing. Really," Amy insisted, throwing her arms around both of them. "Best daughter and son-in-law _ever_. And you look stunning, by the way!" she remarked, turning to River.

"Thank you, dear. And you have to too, so go and get changed. You have a party to go to!"

* * *

**~ Later that night. ~**

* * *

"Hi, honey!" the Doctor grinned, offering the bowl out to her. "Carrot stick?"

"No," River muttered, grimacing in disgust. "Even the smell's making me feel sick. I _love_ being pregnant. All this food, and I can't bloody eat anything without seeing it again five minutes later. And wine! God, I miss wine."

"I don't know why. It's revolting."

"You only say that because you're twelve." She smiled wanly, puffing out her cheeks when a wave of sickness washed over her.

He gently picked up her hand to pull her under the kitchen light, seeing the clammy paleness shining out from behind the make-up, the grey tinge to the skin around her eyes. "You look awful."

She frowned. "Thanks, love."

"No, I mean it." He put the carrot sticks down to place his hand to her forehead, drawing it away a second later with a wince. "You're burning. Do you feel ok?"

She pronounced her answer with a wonderfully impatient sigh. "I'm _fine_. I'm just tired."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure I'm tired? I'm pregnant with timey-wimey twins, dear; exhaustion is part of the package."

"You're so pale."

"I'm so glad I have you to keep my self-esteem up."

"I'm just worried about you," he mumbled softly, resting his hand on her hip so it looked as if they were dancing rather than having a semi-domestic. "I mean, you just used the phrase "timey-wimey"; on a normal day, it would be Doctor-stop-talking-like-a-bloody-three-year-old, and, you-know-every-language-in-the-Universe-at-least-try-to-use-one-of-them."

"Well, maybe I've just been spending too much time with you. Oh! I like this song. Dance with me."

He took hold of her hand obligingly, swaying in time to the music and twirling her gently. "Oh God, no spinning, no spinning," she pleaded, swaying dangerously on her feet and clutching her head.

He kept hold of her hand tightly, wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Sorry. Are you alright?"

She nodded, immediately regretting it when blue spots swam into her vision. "I feel sick," she moaned heavily. "Hang on. I just need a minute."

He reluctantly let her go.

* * *

Uncontrollable shakes plagued River as she made her way back downstairs, gripping the banister until her knuckles almost burst through her skin and staggering over to the wall to press her palms against it. She could hear the Doctor's voice what could have been worlds away, and summoned the last of her energy to stumble through the seemingly growing horde of guests until she found herself, barely conscious, at his side.

"Doctor," she murmured in a tiny voice, drawing his attention immediately away from the conversation.

His smile dropped like a pebble into water when he saw her expression, combined with her pale and tear-streaked face. "What's the matter?" he asked gravely, pulling her to the side.

"I…" A ripple of pain passed through her abdomen, and she clenched her teeth with a wince. "I'm- I'm bleeding, and- it hurts, it started about ten minutes ago I think and it's getting worse, and the bleeding's quite heavy, and-" A sudden sob caught in her throat. "And- I think I need to- to go to hospital-"

"Ok. Ok. It's ok," he whispered, slipping his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders in an attempt to stop her violent shivering. The colour had gone from his face, but he slipped his arm around her waist to half-carry her to the door, helping her through the crowds of people that smelled of sweet wine and chocolate.

They bumped into Amy and Rory when they got into the garden, busy chatting to yet another guest. The Doctor whispered Amy's name, and River watched the colour drain from her face as she turned to them.

"River!" she cried urgently with wide eyes, putting her hands on her shoulders. "What…?"

"I'm taking her to hospital," the Doctor explained, sounding shockingly calm- River supposed that was for her benefit. A horribly painful spasm made her clutch her stomach with a whimper, and she felt his hold on her tighten.

Amy's eyes flew to him. "Why?" Rory asked, sounding panicked.

"It's ok. Don't worry; enjoy the rest of your party. We'll be back soon."

Amy gripped his arm. "Doctor," she implored.

He paused for a moment. "She just doesn't feel well."

"I'm bleeding, Mum," River mumbled in a voice that didn't even sound like her own, seeing no reason to lie to them, give them false hope.

Amy gasped, holding a hand to her mouth. Rory looked as if he was going to cry.

River saw their eyes flicker to the Doctor, and when they did, their expressions changed. She didn't have to look at her husband to know that he was giving them one of those looks, silently warning them into being brave.

"We have to go. We'll see you later, ok?"

She caught one last glance of her parents' terrified faces before the Doctor led her gently across the garden. She almost made it to the Tardis when a flare of pain in her abdomen made her knees buckle.

He caught her before she fell, scooping her up into his arms without a word and carrying her through the doors.


	24. Little Ghost

**~ The Doctor and River return to the Pond house with some news. ~**

* * *

It was almost midnight when they got back.

"Oh my god, River," Amy whispered, pulling her into a hug on the doorstep the second they opened the front door. "We've been so worried about you. Is everything- I mean, are you…?"

Her parents' anxious stares made River feel sick. She imagined things going differently at the hospital. She imagined looking into their eyes and telling them that their grandchildren had died on their wedding anniversary.

"Everything's ok," the Doctor said eventually, after a long moment of silence when she couldn't bring herself to answer them.

"Really?" asked Rory disbelievingly. River nodded, brushing her limp curls away from her face. She supposed she didn't look like someone who had just received such good news. "Wow. I mean, I- we- we thought…"

"Rory," the Doctor's voice warned him quietly.

"No- no, I know, I just… what did they say, at the hospital?"

She pulled the Doctor's jacket tighter around her, drawing herself into a little cocoon.

"They said they'll be alright, now they've stabilised them; their regeneration energy is sort of- encasing them, and keeping them safe. She just needs to get lots of rest," the Doctor told them softly, knowing how difficult it was for her to lift her head today, let alone form full sentences. His arm was still wrapped protectively around her shoulder.

"I'm, um… I'm going to get changed," she mumbled, wandering slowly over to the stairs as if asleep. The three of them watched her trudge up them in silence, waiting until she disappeared into the spare room before exchanging worried glances.

"Is she alright?" Amy whispered.

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't think she is. Um, do you mind if I stay here tonight? I… I really think she shouldn't be alone. I don't even know if we should leave her on her own at all," he whispered.

"But everything was fine, wasn't it? The twins are ok?"

"Yes; they said they were just in distress, they should be fine now, but… I think it's put the thought into her head. And it's terrifying her, the thought of losing them. It would with anyone, but she's… she's fragile. She hides it well- _very_ well- but she is. Understandably; look at the life she's had. I don't think she'd be able to take any more suffering."

"What can we do?"

He sighed quietly. "Don't let her feel alone. Look after her. Just try and make her ok as possible." He smiled wanly. "Sorry for ruining your anniversary."

"Oh, don't be stupid, you didn't ruin it. Tell her that, too."

"Yeah, and at least everything's ok," Rory added. "I mean, it would have been awful if… you know. Them being alright; that's an anniversary present in itself."

The Doctor's eyes flickered to the stairs, a little sparkle appearing in his eyes. "In that case… do you want one more anniversary present?"

Rory frowned. "What do you mean?"

"They told us when we went to the hospital…we're having a girl and a boy."

They gasped at the same time. Amy's gleeful voice lifted his spirits, bringing a weak smile to his face. "Oh my _god_, really?" she squeaked, clapping her hands together. "That's so-!"

"I know." He smiled for the first time in hours, even though his hearts still felt as if they were being held together by string.

* * *

The Doctor finally persuaded the Ponds to go to bed at half past one, telling them as nicely as he could that hovering around their disconsolate daughter was not going to help when she refused to speak a single word.

They had sent the guests home early; remnants of the party were still scattered around the house, though it was so quiet now that it was unsettling. Obviously not being tired, and sensing that River needed time before he talked to her, he spent as long as he could tidying everything away until there were no traces of any kind of celebration.

It was after two when he finally wandered into the kitchen, as quietly as he could. He barely even noticed his River, his little ghost, as he proceeded to take down the balloons and clear away the food while stealing the occasional anxious glance at her. She sat curled up on one of the dining chairs, clasped hands resting on the table as if in prayer. She was so still that she blended into the rest of the furniture, still wrapped in his jacket and the pyjamas that the hospital had dressed her in, make-up cried away.

When the kitchen was positively spotless, he took a seat next to her in silence. This was fast becoming a favourite spot for their heart-to-heart-to-hearts.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Then: "Doctor?" she murmured softly, her voice so hushed that for a moment he thought he had imagined it.

When he glanced at her, he saw those eyes that had haunted him at the hospital, wide and shimmering and full of things he was frightened he wouldn't be able to make go away.

"Are you, um…?" Her gaze wandered to her hands. She was scratching the creases of her palms with her fingernails, leaving little crescent- shaped grooves in her skin. "Are you- busy, tonight? Do you have anywhere that- you need to…need to be?"

She still couldn't ask him, after everything. Despite today's events, which seemed to have broken her more than a little bit, that pride still stuck; the resolution to never let him see the damage. He was sure then, of what he needed to do to see the smile that he loved so much; he had decided long before this, when she had cried at the hospital out of sheer relief and exhaustion. She didn't have to ask any more.

He gave her a little sad smile, glad that she wasn't looking at him; he knew how she loved to pretend that she hated comfort.

"I do, actually," he said quietly.

Her gaze flew up to him; she couldn't stop herself, and he saw tears swimming in the rims of her eyes. She looked more terrified than he had ever seen anyone.

Realising, she dipped her head. "Oh… well, it's getting late; I suppose you'd better be going… I don't want to keep you."

"Yes, you're right. I should be going; lots to do, you know- people who need me."

She nodded dumbly. "Ok."

Her voice was so thick, he wondered at how she hadn't burst into tears.

Without any words, he hopped up from his seat at the kitchen table, and wandered over to the bench to get a mug.

She seemed to be lost in a little bubble of isolation, and didn't look up again until the kettle had boiled and he was adding water to the hot chocolate mix.

She frowned at him when she lifted her head out of her hands, the day having robbed her of her usual perceptiveness. "What are you doing?"

"Being where I need to be." He gave her a little apprehensive smile, popping some mini marshmallows into the hot chocolate because he knew how much she loved them.

She regarded him as if he'd gone insane when he placed the mug in front of her, little tendrils of steam escaping from it. He had done this for her on many nights, when she needed cheering up but couldn't admit it; although it had been a while since he had last had to. There had been a good few occasions when he had brought a travel kettle, a hot chocolate sachet and a flask to Stormcage, and tonight it almost, almost, made her smile.

"You're staying here?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Of course I'm staying here, dafty." He had a pile of marshmallows cupped in his hand, and offered one out to her. She ignored it.

"Well- why didn't you say?" There was a little tightness in her voice, as if she was trying to be cross but couldn't quite manage it.

He smiled kindly. "Why didn't you ask?"

She looked away bashfully, staring down into the abyss of her hot chocolate. "You _can_ ask, you know," he said gently. "There's nothing wrong with you wanting me here. You haven't had the best day, after all."

"I'm fine," she muttered quickly, but her hands were already curled around the mug.

"It's ok not to be fine, River. You've always looked after me; it's about time somebody looked after you. Especially because you're busy looking after two other tiny people."

She snorted softly. "I'm not doing a very good job."

"Don't say that, River. You know they're absolutely fine, and even if they weren't, it wouldn't have been your fault."

"It's only been eighteen weeks and it's already going wrong," she muttered scornfully, sounding annoyed with herself.

"It isn't going wrong," he assured her softly. "Today was just a scare; everything's ok-"

"No, it isn't," she insisted, her voice swelling. "You heard what they said at the hospital; the regeneration energy is keeping them safe. They would be dead if they were human, Doctor; we would have lost them today," she snapped tearfully. "And they're half human, so that means that basically they have a fifty per cent chance of actually making it into the Universe. And then there's me- it wasn't even supposed to be possible for me to get pregnant, with everything the Silence did to me, everything Stormcage did... years of radiation, chemicals, torture; god knows what all of that's doing to our babies."

She was precariously close to crying. He shuffled his chair closer along to hers, inwardly slightly relieved that she was actually willing to open up like this. Admittances of fear from River Song were rare.

"Listen," he started carefully as he put the marshmallows down and tucked her corkscrews behind her ears, knowing that a lot was riding on his words. Perhaps, if he succeeded in comforting her, then she would be able to sleep tonight. "I know today has frightened you. But you have to trust me when I promise you that they're going to be ok. In less than half a year they'll be here, River; you'll be able to hold them, and when they're in your arms you'll forget you were ever afraid that they would be anything less than perfect."

He brushed away with his thumbs the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "What if they don't get here?" she whispered. "What if-"

"River, stop it," he said gently. "Believe me. You're going to be a mother, to the most beautiful little boy and girl in the entire Universe. And they're going to love you so much."

Despite everything, a wan smile flickered across her face. "I can't believe it's a boy and a girl."

The Doctor grinned. "I know. You see, River; this is everything you used to dream of. You'll get your happy ending. I promise you."

* * *

**Of course everything's alright... for now. We have a LOT planned, not all of which will involve such good fortune; but, spoilers.**

**Thank you for the reviews x**


	25. Gratitude

**~ The morning after the anniversary party; River wants to say something. ~**

* * *

"Fish fingers and custard!" the Doctor exclaimed gleefully, diving into his seat with an impish grin.

"Amy?" he called through a mouthful.

"She's at work, sweetie. You know she has a job."

River's voice made him smile. The heaviness from it had disappeared, and there was a new sparkle in her eyes when she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her hair was freshly washed, tied back in a bun with a few loose springy curls framing her face from which the shadows and paleness had vanished.

"You look better."

She hummed as she made her way over to the sink, getting some orange juice. "I feel better. I actually had more than three hours' sleep, for the first time in about a month. I even kept breakfast down. Well, I only had about four spoons of dry cereal, but it's a start."

"Did you make these?" he asked, nodding down at the bowl of custard.

"No, it was the magic elves. Of course I did." She smirked as she came to sit next to him.

"Why?"

"Can I not make breakfast for my husband now?" she asked innocently. "Think of them as my way of saying thank you."

"What for?" he asked lightly.

She shrugged, seeming to suddenly grow shy. "I was going to say for making me better last night, but… I suppose for everything. I never said thank you, did I?"

"You don't have to thank me for anything."

She smiled timidly. "You've been taking care of me."

"That's my job."

"No; it isn't," she said softly, studying him with an uncharacteristic degree of affection, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "That's so you."

He put the remaining half of a fish finger back onto the plate, looking a little defensive. "What is?"

"Saving the Universe, because you think anyone would. Helping people, because you think it's the right thing to do. Not everyone would have stayed; but you don't know that. You've saved so many lives in so many ways, yet you think you're nothing more than a madman in a box. And that is what makes you the man I fell in love with. That's what makes you the Doctor. You don't even know that, do you?"

He smiled sheepishly, caught off guard by such stripped-back love. "I'm not just here because… I think it's the right thing to do," he said quietly.

"I should think so." She grinned, leaning across him to pick up a fish finger.

"Try it with the custard. Just once."

"Absolutely not."

"It's really nice."

"Coming from the man who thinks fezzes are cool? I don't think so."

He scowled and she smirked as was their tradition with her mockery, but when she found his hand and twined her fingers through his he could feel her heartbeat mingle with his own.


	26. Oven Mitts

**~ A few days after the anniversary party, the Doctor finds that fear and vulnerability can't be erased in a day. ~**

* * *

"Are your cupcakes ready yet?" the Doctor asked.

"They should be. I'll take them out in a minute."

"Ok. Remember oven mitts."

River rolled her eyes melodramatically. "Yes, dear, I have used an oven before."

He smiled apologetically, wandering out of the room to go and find Rory and ask him where he'd hidden the Rubik's Cube after the slight incident where he may have got a little impatient with it.

"Doctor, I'm in the shower! Can't this wait?"

"Just tell me where you put it, Rory!" he pleaded through the bathroom door.

"I'm not telling you! I had to get a new one after you broke my old one, and there's no way you're getting it. Go away."

He was about to protest when a sudden pained yelp from downstairs followed by a loud clatter made his hearts stop.

He hurtled down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen to find River standing in the middle of what looked like a cupcake massacre; they were all scattered about her feet in bits, the baking tray amongst them. His wife stared down at them helplessly, holding her bare hands out palms-up. "Oven mitts…" she mumbled tearfully.

He made his way over to her, tiptoeing around the cupcake remains to cradle her hands in his and examine the damage. "Oh, River," he sighed, seeing the swollen blisters that were already beginning to form on her fingertips.

"I forgot," she admitted reluctantly.

"It's ok. It's only your hormones making your brain all mushy. You just need a good rest; you'll be right as rain in no time."

"What about my hands?" she asked, sounding for all the world like a frightened child who had just fallen over for the first time.

He thought for a moment, knowing that there was one way in which he could help her. "Here." Wanting to take that heartbreakingly forlorn expression from her face, he pressed his hands to hers before she could stop him, and before long tiny spirals of regeneration energy were radiating from them.

It only took a second; when his hands slipped from hers they were as good as new, fresh and soft and non-blistered. "There you are. Is that better?"

She looked up at him with huge eyes. "Why did you just do that?"

"Well, you're alright now, aren't you?"

"But- your regeneration energy-!" she began in protest.

"It was just a little, River. Don't worry about it."

She sniffed. "You're lucky my judgement is impaired by my hormones, or I'd probably slap you right now. Promise you'll never do that again."

"I promise."

She looked down at the cupcakes, biting her lip. "They took me all morning…"

"We can make other ones. It's ok." He kissed her forehead, brushing a little clump of flour out of her hair. "Why don't you go and sit down? I'll clean this up."

She stopped for a moment, a small crinkle appearing between her eyebrows, before her little wall of composure suddenly fell away. A sob rose in her throat, and she held her hand to her mouth, pressing her eyes shut.

He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder, rocking her gently from side to side.

They must have stayed like this for minutes; Rory wandered in at some point, fresh from his shower, but the Doctor gestured for him to leave the second he appeared in the doorway. Hearing River's sobs, he had given an understanding nod and left them alone.

"I'm sorry," she whined into his shoulder. "I'm just…"

"I know," he soothed. "It's been a tough week."

* * *

**~ Later that day ~**

He knocked softly on the bedroom door; when there was no answer, he crept in to find her curled up in bed, still awake but looking slightly traumatised, her eyes glazed over.

He knelt down next to her, holding the plate piled high with cupcakes under her nose with an apprehensive smile. "I made you some new ones."

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the duvet that was pulled over her nose.

"I'll just leave them on here." He placed them on the bedside table carefully, before his eyes wandered back to her. She looked so lonely that it brought a lump to his throat.

"Do you want me to… keep you company?" he asked timidly.

She didn't answer for several seconds; not really wanting to leave when she looked like this, he sat on the floor next to the bed and crossed his legs underneath him, waiting for instruction.

"Tell me a story."

Her whisper was scarcely audible, but it made his hearts skip at the concept of being able to do something to help. "Ok… any one in particular?"

She shook her head. "Just anything," she said quietly.

He curled up next to her on the bed, and told her ancient Gallifreyan fairy tales until sleep found her.


	27. Early Jigsaws

**~ For the Doctor and River, synchronised insomnia equals bonding time. ~**

* * *

River got up to find her husband at the dining table at nearly three o'clock in the morning, intensely concentrating on something that under closer inspection turned out to be a jigsaw puzzle.

He was so absorbed in it, muttering little instructions to himself under his breath, that he didn't notice her until she sat down opposite him.

His face lit up in a brilliant beam when he finally looked up. "Hello!" he whispered loudly, ignoring the jigsaw. She felt rather proud that she was enough to distract him from his toys, a difficult task at the best of times. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she remarked with a raised eyebrow. "Do you do this every night?"

He shrugged lightly, trying to jam another piece into place. "You know I don't sleep much. I like jigsaws. This one has a thousand pieces! It's meant to be a picture of a train when it's finished."

She watched him with a little fond smile on her face, letting herself imagine things the way she now often dreamt of; she saw him sitting with a little girl on one knee, a boy on the other, an arm wrapped protectively around each of them. He held them close, grinning as he whispered clues to them and pouting when they finished the jigsaw in half his best time.

"Are you ok?"

She snapped out of her daydream, realising that he was gazing at her and looking a little anxious. "I'm fine, sweetie."

"Aren't you tired?" he asked softly. "It's almost three."

"I am; I'd be asleep, but our children have other ideas." She rubbed her stomach, feeling the force of tiny feet beating against her palms.

"Are they kicking?" he asked excitedly, an awestruck smile on his face.

She hummed. "I'm sure one kicks more than the other, though."

"I bet it's the girl."

He forgot about the jigsaw at the prospect of far more exciting things; the movements of his children echoing against his ear when he pressed it to his wife's stomach kept a grin like a sunbeam on his face until it ached.


	28. Percy

**~ River is now around five and a half months pregnant; she has convinced the Doctor to go travelling for a few days to restore sanity, but his absence doesn't endure as long as anticipated. ~**

* * *

The Doctor waved awkwardly the moment Amy opened the door, a rather difficult task with the heaps of bags dangling from his fingertips. "Hi Pond," he greeted in a whisper, a huge grin on his face. "Did you miss me?"

Amy narrowed her eyes. "No…"

His face fell, but she broke out in a knowing smirk a second later. "River!" she called.

The Doctor's eyes lit up, and he lowered the bags onto the doorstep carefully before he stepped over them with typical clumsiness into the hallway.

Amy had slinked into the kitchen so that he was left standing alone until his wife, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a matching grey jumper that almost reached her knees, crept out of the living room.

He watched the surprise set in on her face with fond amusement, biting back a grin. "Hi, honey."

River bit her lip with a giggle, flouncing across the hallway and into his arms before he could say anything more. She hugged him so tightly that he could barely breathe, scrunching fistfuls of his jacket in her hands and burying her nose in his shoulder.

They remained in each other's arms for what must have been minutes, the Doctor lifting her off her feet and spinning her around gently to make her laugh.

"Did _you_ miss me?" he asked his wife when he finally pulled back, their faces close together and radiant smiles on both of their faces.

"I did," she answered with surprising solemnity, resting her hands on his arms and letting him smooth her wild hair. "Even though… you did only leave yesterday…"

"Oh…" He averted his eyes, eyebrows dipping. "Um- did I? Well, I was gone _ages_ from my end, the, the- um, helmic regulator must be playing up again…"

River raised an eyebrow. "How long were you away, sweetie?"

He twisted his mouth to the side, sensing that he was defeated. "Um… I think I managed about… seven and a half hours?"

She sighed, brushing his quiff out of his eyes affectionately. "Doctor…"

"I know, I was supposed to leave for a couple of weeks," he huffed, looking so guilty that it almost made her laugh. "I just… missed you, a bit."

"A bit?" she echoed.

"Well. A lot," he corrected himself, scuffing the carpet with his toe. "I tried to keep myself busy for as long as I could…"

"Where did you go?"

'"Oh, loads of places! I went to the Calistonian Market in 5162; they have some great stuff that year. I went to… four Ghoon bazaars, you should have seen it, River- they had baby Porapyes for sale and everything!"

She eyed him warily. "You didn't buy one, did you?"

"No; I was going to, but I thought you might tell me off. Where else did I go, um… ooh! I went to the annual souk on Ezrahm, they have four suns on Ezrahm and they're all different sizes, it's beautiful-"

"So basically, you went shopping?" she asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

"Well- I didn't- well. Yes. But not for myself; I may have, um, bought some… baby things."

She felt her heart swell in her chest. "What?"

"I…" He eyed her nervously as if afraid he'd done something wrong. "Well, I was thinking about you. I couldn't help it! I never really- _wanted_ to leave, you know. But since you wanted some time to yourself, I stayed away, I was very firm with myself," he said determinedly.

"You didn't even manage half a day, honey. And you spent the entire time shopping for us."

"I- I tried! I just… I missed you. All of you." His eyes flickered down to her stomach, a timid smile finding him. "How are you, are you ok?"

"I'm basically the same as I was yesterday…"

"Right…" He wrung his hands apprehensively. "I'm sorry, um, I know you probably wanted a bit more peace and quiet, I can… go back, if you want, I don't really know what I'll do, I suppose I'll just- read a few books, maybe make a couple of supernovas, do some knitting…"

"You're not going anywhere," River assured him. Believe it or not, I don't actually mind you being here; it was for your benefit, not mine. I thought you would _want_ to get back to the stars."

"So did I," he admitted with a little smile. "But, as it turns out, I've found something even more wonderful." The smile expanded into a full grin. "Do you want to see your presents?"

He pulled what appeared to be a little beanie giraffe out of one of the bags, making it dance in front of her. "Look! Isn't he cute?"

"I'm assuming that's not for me."

"No… but he likes you. He's called Percy!" He became the puppeteer of the toy, pressing its little nose against River's cheek while making melodramatic kissing noises.

"Doctor, stop it."

"It's not me. It's Percy."

"I'm not talking to the toy giraffe."

"Well then, it's your fault if he keeps pestering you." He sat Percy on top of her curls with an impish grin.


	29. Stir-Crazy Cookies

**~ As the married time-travellers have been staying still for a while, it's caused them to become a little… stir-crazy. Such boredom, of course, leads to a shopping trip. ~**

* * *

"This is batch number fourteen!" River announced with a manic grin, sticking the plate of warm cookies under their noses before taking a step back. "And… for my next trick; watch this!"

She carefully balanced the plate on top of her swollen stomach, taking her hands away like a child who had just learned how to ride a bike without holding onto the handlebars. "Look what I can do!"

The Doctor eyed her warily. "Well, that's, that's... well done."

"Impressive, right?" she beamed. "I'm like a human shelf! I may have broken a plate earlier trying to achieve this… sorry."

"Oh, it's, um, it's fine," Amy said dismissively, her eyes wandering over the benches cluttered with cookie plates.

"Well, we'll leave you to it." Before Amy could protest, the Doctor dragged her out of the kitchen.

"You have to take her out," he hissed, once they were in the hallway out of earshot from his wife.

"What? What do you mean?" she whispered.

"Amy, she is River Song; the most dangerous psychopath in the entire Universe, the woman who made a Dalek beg for mercy three times, who made the whole of time and space stand still- and the highlight of her day is balancing homemade sugary treats on herself. She needs to get out of the house."

"I just saw you doing a thousand keepie-uppies with Rory's football in the back garden- I think you both need to get out of the house."

"It was ten thousand," he mumbled sulkily.

"Why is it _my _job to take her out? You're her husband! And don't pretend you've got anything better to do; you are this close to joining the cookie-making industry in my kitchen."

"Amy!" he implored. "Please? Take her shopping! We don't have any baby clothes yet, go on a baby spree- it'll be a nice afternoon."

"Why can't you do it?" she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh, you know what I'm like in a shop. My tendency to wander _slightly_ off task; combined with her shortage of patience, the chances of me making it back alive are pretty slim."

Amy rolled her eyes. "_Fine_, I'll take her. But you owe me, ok?"

"Ok…" There was a little silence. "Can I come? I'm bored."

* * *

"Oh! I used to work here," he remarked casually, skipping through the automatic doors of the department store with his hand in hers.

She raised her eyebrows. "You used to _what_?"

"Yeah, it must have been… ooh, just before we got married, I think! It was fun, well, until the Cybermen showed up…"

"The Cybermen?" she echoed.

"Yeah, they were underground. Don't worry though, they got blown up."

"Ah, well, colour me reassured." She scowled at him half-heartedly, letting him swing her hand back and forth like the child he was. "Well then, if you used to work here, where's the baby department?"

"It's right at the back of the second floor. We should take the escalator, though; I'm still a bit wary of the lift. Oh! Lady Val!"

"What's-" She suddenly found herself being dragged across the store to a jewellery stand, where an elderly woman was standing with a huge grin on her face and her arms wide open.

"Doctor! How lovely to see you back here!"

He did the kissing thing that he always did to greet her- River made a mental note to inform him at some point that it was not as normal as he thought it was- and hopped up and down excitedly, almost taking his wife with him before she rapidly prised her hand out of his with a shake of her head. "Oh, Val, I've missed you! How's business?"

"Well, I'm still here! Where have you been, Doctor? It's been four years!"

"Has it? How time flies! I've been travelling," he grinned, resting on the counter much to the irritation of some waiting customers. River whispered an apology on his behalf.

"Ooh, lovely! Anywhere nice?"

"Not particularly. Oh! Val…" River yelped as he suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her forwards and cupping her shoulders in his palms. "This is my wife!"

It made her smile, how ridiculously cheerful he sounded on announcing this fact. He even seemed proud, something which was slightly beyond her understanding.

"Your wife?" she echoed, leaning forward to whisper as if not wanting to hurt River's feelings. "But I thought you and Craig were…?"

He blinked. "No, no, no. No! Craig was just my partner."

River pulled at his sleeve. "Sweetie. Stop talking."

"Doctor?"

The voice spun the Doctor around so that his coat billowed out behind him. "_Craig_!" he cried excitedly, running over to a man who looked rather startled and pulling him into a tight hug. "Speak of the devil! Hello! Hi Sophie! Where's Stormageddon?"

"You mean Alfie? He's at school!" Sophie told him, exchanging a perplexed glance with her husband.

"At school!" the Doctor gasped. "Is he that old already? Wow! Tell him I said hello!"

"Yeah, he- I- what are you doing here, Doctor?" Craig spluttered.

"Shopping for baby clothes!" he grinned, gesturing at River when she wandered over reluctantly to join him.

"Baby- baby clothes?" he echoed, forehead creasing.

"Yes. Oh, Craig, this is my wife, River. River, Craig and Sophie," he said quickly, positively vibrating on his feet.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you." River smiled awkwardly, seeing familiar surprise on their faces. Apparently, nobody thought that her husband was capable of reproducing.

"Um… I thought you were- you know…" Craig trailed off, miming slitting his throat.

"Oh, that's right! Um, no, turns out I found a way around it."

"How?"

"Just a shape-shifting robot worked by miniaturised people. Hey, funny story; River was the one who was meant to be killing me!" he cried, pointing to River as if it was hilarious. She gave him a look of thinly disguised disdain.

Craig frowned. "What?"

"Yeah- it's a long story. I'll have to come round for tea and tell you it sometime, but in a nutshell, she was meant to murder me but ended up marrying me instead! And here we are, what, a hundred years later?"

"Roughly," she agreed.

"That's… romantic," Sophie remarked uncertainly.

"So is she- are you- um…?"

"Human?" she finished helpfully. "Yes. Well, mostly. Well… partly…"

"Remember Amy Pond?"

"Yeah…"

"River's her daughter!"

Craig stuttered hopelessly, holding his hands to his head. "Maybe you should have just told him we met on EHarmony," River whispered to her husband.

"Hold on- is your name River Pond?"

"Well, look at Kim Kardashian's baby," Sophie pointed out, nudging him with a raised eyebrow. "She's called North West!"

"No, my name's River Song, but that's not my real name. It's complicated."

"Oh. Well! Seeing as you're not dead, can I have my Stetson back?" Craig joked, trying to lighten what had become a somewhat odd atmosphere- it was somewhat common when the Doctor was rambling.

"I would, but River shot it."

"She… right." He eyed River warily; she supposed that she wasn't coming off entirely well here, as a trigger-happy murderous pregnant psychopath. "So… you're having a baby!" he said, clapping his hands together in an attempt to crack the atmosphere but not quite able to disguise the sheer shock at the words he had just spoken.

"Two!" the Doctor corrected him. "It's twins. Hey! We should meet up sometime for a… play-date!"

"_Okay_. Honey, let's go," River said desperately, tugging on his hand.

* * *

The family sat sprawled out on the living room chairs, slightly exhausted and surrounded by a mountain range of carrier bags.

"What are we going to do with all this?" River pondered as Rory staggered in carrying yet more things. She lay with her feet in the Doctor's lap, letting him- well, making him- massage her ankles. "Should we put it in the Tardis?"

"You probably should have gone to the _shop_ in the Tardis," Rory grunted.

Amy rolled her eyes, heaving herself off the chair. "Alright sulky, I'll give you a hand if you're going to be a girl about it!"

River watched them leave with anxious eyes before turning to the Doctor. "We haven't thought this through!" she whispered fiercely.

He frowned. "Which part? I mean, we didn't really think any of it through, did we, it just sort of happened…"

"No. I mean, where are they going to go? We've just ended up living here because I'm pregnant and it made sense, but we never thought about what we're going to do when the babies are born! We'll have to leave! The spare room is barely big enough for us, there's no way we can fit two cribs in there-!"

"Hey," the Doctor soothed. "Stop panicking."

"Stop panicking?! Our children are homeless!"

"Actually… they're not." Rory's voice made River look up; her parents were standing in the doorway with enigmatic smiles on their faces. "We were going to surprise you, but… we decided to clear out the study. I did it when you were out shopping- just as well," he remarked, casting a glance over the bags and boxes. "It's small, but it'll do for now."

"It's such a pretty room, and it's right next to yours for when they need you. I got some things a couple of weeks ago to make it look more like a nursery," Amy announced. "They're in the cupboard under the stairs, so you're all ready to get everything set up." She clapped her hands together when the Doctor and River gazed at her uselessly, stuck for words. "Well go on, then! Go and have a look!"

They made their way upstairs, the Doctor insisting on helping his wife even when she pointed out that she was more likely to fall when attached to him.

The room was small, but wonderful; with a plush cream carpet and bathed in the gentle glow of the afternoon sunlight.

"Oh, this is lovely," River whispered in awe.

"We know it isn't much, but we can make the most of the space." Amy draped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "We'll move everything in this afternoon while you sort the clothes. Doctor, you're in charge of decorating the walls; don't make me regret it."

"Yes, Pond."

"It's such a beautiful room." River laughed, rubbing her stomach gently when a flurry of soft kicks came from within it. "They love it already."

"Can we get a rocking horse?" the Doctor asked excitedly, bouncing around the room. "And one of those playhouses that looks like a castle! And a _swing_!"

"Are all these things for the babies, or for you?" Rory asked knowingly.

"Sweetie, it's not nearly big enough for that. And they won't even be able to lift their own heads; what are they going to do with a rocking horse?"

The Doctor folded his arms, wandering into the corner of the room in a sulk. "I just wanted it to be cool…"

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" River asked, ignoring her husband and turning to Amy and Rory. "There's going to be six people living in your house by the New Year."

"We'll make it work." Rory smiled. "That's what family does!"

River waddled forwards to pull her father into a tight hug. "Thank you."

He cleared his throat, trying to shrug despite being rather restricted. "No problem. You can stay here for as long as you need to; you know that."

The Doctor gave him a grateful smile, knowing that Rory's motives matched his. Given what had happened to the last baby in their family, it seemed wise to make sure she wasn't left alone now she was grown up.

* * *

"We're almost done moving all the furniture in," the Doctor told his wife after politely knocking on the bedroom door; she sat sprawled out on the bed, lazily filing through the slightly preposterous amount of clothes they had bought with one hand while the other cradled her stomach. "How's clothes-sorting going?"

"It's-" She got no further when her hand curled around something at the bottom of one of the bags, and she pulled it out with a frown. "What in the name of sanity is this?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, seeing the little crochet fez she was cradling in her palm. "Well. It's, um, a baby fez."

She raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. I can't believe I actually have to spell this out, but you are _not_ allowed to dress our children in ridiculous headgear."

"But- it- it's cute! Look! It's knitted, and-"

"You're fighting an unwinnable battle, sweetie."

He scowled at her. "I just want them to look cool!"

"Then don't dress them in anything that remotely resembles anything you own, dear." She pulled out a fluffy onesie complete with bunny ears, regarding it in disdain. "Do you have something against our children?"

"They'll be born in December; it's cold!" he protested.

"We can wrap them up in things _without_ ears," she remarked wryly. "Did you get anything, I don't know, normal?"

"Well, I did get these…" He picked up one of the smaller bags scattered around them and perched on the bed next to her to lay out the contents between them. River gasped at the revelation of two surprisingly adorable outfits; a pale pink checked dress complete with a flowery collar and a bow, and star-print light blue dungarees with tiny pockets.

"I'm not sure why they put pockets in these things… I suppose he needs somewhere to put his wallet and keys." The Doctor laughed at his own comment, stopping abruptly when River made a noise not unlike an injured animal. "What's the matter?"

"They're just so tiny!" she sniffed, cradling an outfit in each hand as if their babies were wearing them. "They're going to be _this_ big, and I can't…" She bunched the clothes up in her hands, cuddling them to her chest and throwing him a fretful look. "What if I break them or something? I'm used to holding guns this size, not living people."

He wasn't sure whether or not to laugh, so thought it a wise decision to remain solemn. The hormones were not to be mocked under any circumstances. "I'm sure you won't break them. And if you do, you know… they can regenerate."

"Oh, the perks of conception in the vortex," she muttered wryly.

"Well."

"Am I worrying too much?"

He blinked, holding his breath when she stared at him challengingly. "I'm supposed to say no, aren't I?" She rolled her eyes, and a frown crossed his face as he gave himself a mental scolding. "Sorry. But, well, it's ok if you're worrying. That's what mums do."

His words made her smile, much to his relief. "I just can't believe in less than three months we'll be dressing them in these." She smoothed the fabric of the dress lovingly. "Everything's happened so fast… when I found out, I was so worried about telling you and what pregnancy was going to do to me that there was no time to think about all of this. But this is the easy bit, isn't it? I'll be a mother in less than three months, for the rest of my life…" She swallowed heavily, picking at the buttons on the dungarees. "It was exciting to think about when it was far away, but it's real now and- I don't know if I'm ready. I don't _feel_ ready. I can shoot any target with my eyes closed, the most complicated laws of physics are wired into my head, but none of that's going to help me now, is it?"

She seemed to construct a monumental wall of insecurity with each new day. Although he wasn't doing a terrible job, he wished that there was something he could say to make it all magically disappear forever.

"Nothing can prepare you for parenthood," the Doctor told her gently, prising the clothes away from her to fold them up neatly and add them to their respective piles to store in the wardrobe. "…Because there's nothing in the Universe like it. But I know that if anyone can do this, you can." He grinned. "You've had enough practice."

"Doctor, I've _never_ been around children. Believe it or not, they didn't have a crèche at Stormcage."

"No, but you've always looked after me." He smiled softly, arranging the tiny pairs of booties in a row between them. "And I've been informed on multiple occasions that I'm incredibly childish."

River laughed, placing a tender hand on the side of her husband's face. "They are going to love you." Her eye drifted away from his, and the moment was shattered when it caught sight of a tiny Stetson. "If you live long enough to see them, because if I find another damn hat in these bags there will be serious consequences," she warned with a raised eyebrow, spinning it on her finger.

* * *

**Thank you all hugely for the support, you delicious people you. Hope you're enjoying it! x**


	30. Just Breathing

**~ Amy suggests antenatal classes to her pregnant daughter and son-in-law; not the wisest idea for two people who can barely sit still. ~**

* * *

"This is _so _humiliating," River hissed.

The Doctor sat behind her, head angled awkwardly so that he wasn't suffocated by his wife's hair and legs splayed to make room for her, a position that had been insisted upon by the teacher no matter how reluctant he may have been. River was delighted about it, of course, but that apparently his embarrassment was the only thing she was willing to rejoice about. "What's humiliating about it? It's just breathing."

"Well, you would say that, wouldn't you? You don't get embarrassed by anything; you bloody walk around in a bow tie and a stupid hat."

"Well, I think it's relaxing."

"It's not meant to relax _you_! You're just here for moral support; to be quiet and well-behaved, and not irritate or embarrass me. You're doing _very _well so far," she muttered sarcastically. "I can't believe my mother made me come here."

"You're not doing the breathing properly. If you do the breathing, then you won't be all stressed and shout-y."

She turned her head to give him a glare. "It's impressive how you manage to be everything I hate in one package."

"Breathe, honey."

She leaned back against him with a weary sigh. He traced little circles into her palms in an attempt to calm the stress positively radiating from her, and a little comment popped into her head which made the corner of her mouth curled upwards.

"Hey. Have you missed having me between your legs?"

He pressed his lips together, a red tinge creeping into his cheeks. "Shush."

"Shame we're wearing clothes this time-"

"_River_," he warned her in a whisper.

"Fine… just for the record, I have a feeling _that_ would be much more effective in relieving stress than stupid antenatal classes. And a lot more fun for _both_ of us… even though it got us into this in the first place…"

"Stop it."

She giggled, by now well aware of the teacher glaring at her but past caring as she rolled her head against her husband's shoulder. "_Make_ me."

* * *

"You got _thrown out_ of the antenatal class?" Amy gawped. "Why?"

"It was River's fault," the Doctor mumbled sheepishly. His wife threw him a devilish smirk.

"It was just a bit of flirting. You loved it."

"I did not."

"Yes you did. I was sitting between your legs, sweetie; I could tell-"

The Doctor threw his head down on the dining table with a thump.


	31. Vanishing Act

**~ River is into her seventh month of pregnancy, and the Doctor's growing habit of disappearing mysteriously leads to some interesting and slightly disgusting theories from Amy. Fortunately, Rory puts his detective skills to work and discovers what his eccentric son-in-law really does. ~**

* * *

River was fast asleep upstairs; it was unusually quiet, for one of the first times in months.

"Where's the Doctor?" Rory asked Amy as he put the dishes away.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Is he not with River?"

"No, she's asleep upstairs; he's not in their room."

"Well, he must be in the Tardis."

Rory frowned. "What do you think he's doing in there?"

Amy shrugged, a smirk making the corner of her mouth curl upwards. "Well, you know… they haven't been… at it, since they've been staying here. River said," she whispered.

He groaned. "Amy! Our _daughter_…"

"I know, but- well, they obviously _did_, hello-!" She mimicked the shape of a baby bump, puffing out her cheeks, "And- she told me that they hadn't since she'd got pregnant, so… I mean, I know he's a bow tie wearing alien, but maybe he has… _needs_!"

Rory pulled a face, shuddering. "Thanks for the mental image. That won't be what he's doing. He wouldn't do- _that_."

She shrugged. "Do we really know him? I mean, this time last year if someone had told me he was actually capable of getting someone pregnant I would have laughed in their face. _Look_ at him. Can you imagine him having-?"

"I really, _really_ don't want to. I'm going to see what he's doing."

"Ok… good luck with the nightmares."

* * *

Rory knocked gingerly on the Tardis door, sighing in relief when the Doctor's voice invited him in from inside.

Creeping through the doors, he was enveloped in the calm atmosphere of the Tardis. The Doctor sat cross-legged on the floor feet away from him; surrounded by books, what looked like a half-played game of Jenga and a pile of knitting. "Hi Rory," he said quietly, concentrating on finishing what was apparently a little white jumper.

"Hello… um, Doctor, what are you doing?"

"I am… multitasking," he realised with an impish grin. "I've heard it's a good skill to have when you have a wife and two babies."

"Well… why are you doing it in here?"

The Doctor's shoulders drooped a little. He took a deep breath as if apprehensive about talking, which wasn't something Rory was used to. "Rory, I adore your daughter with all my hearts and souls but she is driving me, _slightly_, a tiny bit insane," he whispered, ridiculously hushed as if River was in the same room.

"Well, I suppose she is pretty bad right now; she is in her third trimester."

"How she isn't drowning in her own hormones is beyond me," he muttered, before abruptly dropping the knitting and looking up at Rory with a slightly devastated expression. "That was really mean, wasn't it? See, Rory, I'm tired and cross and I don't like it! I need my quiet time!"

"So… when she sleeps, you do this?"

"It's the only time I can," he murmured pensively, removing a Jenga piece. "She needs me when I'm awake, and I promised I'd be there."

"You rest when she's resting," Rory remarked. "You know that's what new parents do, don't you? She's your baby."

A little smile ghosted across his face. "I'll only be about… twenty more minutes. I make sure I'm always back when she wakes up. Rory… don't tell her about this. I don't want to hurt her feelings, and given the hormones either it'll kill her or she'll kill me. I don't want her to think that I'm…" He trailed off with a useless shrug.

"I won't. But- I need to know something first. Promise me you're not going to run."

His head shot up. "What do you mean, run?"

"You know what I mean," he said, giving him an accusing glare. Conversations such as this were always slightly odd; giving someone a lecture when that someone was his twelve-hundred-year-old alien son-in-law. "You say you want time alone; it's not that big a step from leaving the house to- leaving the planet, especially when you've got a spaceship."

"Rory," he started slowly, leaning forwards and clasping his hands together. "Five months ago, I promised your daughter that I'd stay with her for the rest of her life."

"Yeah, but you break promises."

He shook his head, picking up a book and turning it over in his hands. "I don't break promises to River," he said solemnly.

* * *

"He was… playing Jenga with himself," he murmured with a slightly confused frown.

Amy guffawed, holding a hand to her mouth. "Oh, _god_, I told you-!"

"No- no, no, it wasn't a euphemism! He's _literally_ playing Jenga, and reading books, and… knitting."

Her brow furrowed. "_Knitting_?" she echoed incredulously.

"Yeah… he says he's just getting a bit of peace and quiet."

"Oh. Well there, see, everything's fine!"

"Is it?" Amy's brow furrowed at Rory's question, and he went on. "Just- what if this is because he isn't coping? What if this is the first step of… a freak-out? I mean, what if it gets too much for him, and he leaves?"

"He won't leave, Rory. He follows River around like a puppy."

"But you know what he's like…"

"It's normal to want space in a marriage! I want to get away from you all the time!" Seeing his wounded frown, she clamped her lips together. "Oh, you know what I mean. Those two are like peas in a pod- big, camp, flowery, theatrical peas- they're not _supposed_ to be together all the time! Plus, they're not a _normal _couple; they usually have the whole of time and space as _their_ space. Honestly, I'm surprised neither of them has killed each other by now, living under the same roof all this time. Just let him have his alone time."

* * *

**More to come...**


	32. The Nursery of the Cosmos

**The third trimester brings about new insecurity in the Doctor's wife. Fortunately, he has something to reassure her.**

* * *

"Mum," River murmured, making Amy turn away from the sink.

"Hey. Where's the Doctor?"

"He's doing something in the Tardis. Um… can I talk to you about something, while he's gone?"

She recognised the tone, and beckoned to the dining table with a little smile. "What's up?"

River played with her hands, resting them on her now exceptionally swollen stomach.

"Am I being paranoid?"

"About?" Amy asked.

"I just…" River puffed out a sigh, holding her bump protectively. "I'm- I'm scared that it's going to go wrong."

"River," Amy soothed. "You know nothing's going to go wrong. You'll be fine. And they'll be fine, too."

"No… I mean…" She took a shaky breath, tears suspended in the rims of her eyes. "What if he leaves me?"

Amy blinked. "The Doctor? River, he won't leave you!"  
"How can you know that?"

"Because I know him, and I know that you are _everything_ to him," she said resolutely. "He loves you. You must know that-"

"But what if that isn't enough? What if we don't make it through this?" River whispered tearfully. "What if- what if the stress of becoming parents… breaks us?"

Amy placed a comforting hand over hers. "That's not going to happen. He's been here all this time-"

"Yes, but it's going to be a big difference looking after our babies when they're actually _born_. It's hard enough now, I know that; I know he finds it difficult to look after me, and even- be around me…" She trailed off, biting her lip as fresh tears dripped onto the dining table. "If it's like this now, he's hardly going to want to be around me when I'm a new mum and I'm exhausted and fat and ugly because I don't even have time to brush my hair, let alone anything else."

"Things like that don't matter to him!"

She scoffed. "Don't they? Have you seen everyone he's travelled with?" She sniffed, pressing her sleeves to her cheeks. "Even now, I know that he goes back to the Tardis every night just to get away from me…"

"River?"

The whisper made her whip her head around. She saw the Doctor standing in the doorway fixing her in a pitiful stare, and her memory echoed back to a nightmarish evening five months ago.

"Ok," Amy whispered, pushing herself up from the table. "I'm going to leave you two to talk." She nudged the Doctor on her way out, shooting him a warning glare.

River hauled herself to her feet, maintaining eye contact with the floor. "River, um… there's something I want you to see. I don't know if you'll- like it, but-"

She barely even heard him. "Why don't you hate me?"

His face fell as he shuffled closer towards her. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, hot tears splashing onto her cheeks. "I don't even know why you're here. I asked you not to run and I've made your life hell ever since, even though all you ever do is take care of me and make me happy. I don't even mean to- to push you away, but I do, and I hate myself for it. I told you, five months ago, that I wouldn't be me anymore, and that's exactly what's happened. You could be out there in the stars, saving the Universe, Doctor. The reason I'm always scared that you're going to leave is because I don't understand why you'd ever want to stay."

He stared at her in dismay, an eternity of silence and too much space passing between them. Cradling her elbows in her hands and sniffing back tears, she half expected him to turn on his heel and walk right out of the door.

After far too long, he held out his hand slowly. She stared at it in confusion, not daring to move and watching as he carefully picked up her hand and twined his fingers through hers.

"Come with me," he whispered.

He led her to the Tardis, guiding her carefully through the doors and helping her up a flight of stairs; she daren't have asked where they were going, stopping dead when they reached a blue door with Gallifreyan symbols carved into it.

"Ready?" the Doctor murmured, his hand closing over the handle. When she only returned his question with a blank, tear-stained face, he gently pushed the door open and stepped back. "Go on. Go inside."

She reluctantly did as he asked, arms folded over her stomach.

As soon as she stepped inside the room lit itself up automatically, a beautifully gentle glow like starlight. It allowed River to see the room properly, and when she did there was absolutely no mistaking what, or whose, room it was. She gasped, tears springing to her eyes as she wandered further into the room, her feet sinking into the deep silver carpet.

"What do you think?" she heard the Doctor ask, leaving her to discover this paradise on her own and watching her from the doorway with an apprehensive smile.

There were windows that stretched from the floor to the curved ceiling; they had some sort of perception filter on them so that they gave a constant view of the stars, swirling galaxies and meteorites. The room was circular; the walls were adorned with Old High Gallifreyan symbols, some simple words of love and protection and peace, others part of fables and fairytales. There was a tall mahogany bookcase, and on either side of it an indigo velvet sofa; every book, she discovered, was a children's story.

There were painted wooden boxes on the other side, filled with toys of every kind imaginable, and a little playhouse made out of patchwork fabric, and a little changing table, and a giant play mat, and an oak wardrobe. It was crammed with shelves of tiny cream-coloured clothes, and hats and gloves and socks and little booties that she could fit in her palm.

"I'm, um making some blue and pink things too," she heard the Doctor ramble. "They'll be done by the time we- need them."

In a dream, River made her way over to the centrepieces, hardly daring to breathe for fear of disturbing the eternal peace that seemed to surround this room.

The cots were painted silver, one with a pink tinge, one with a blue, and they caught the light of the stars so that they seemed to have their own glow. Suspended above each one in an anti-gravity bubble was a mobile made of shimmering crystals in the shapes of crescent moons and stars, all the colours of the rainbow and outlined in gold; when River spun them with her finger they clinked together in a pretty little melody.

"Doctor," she whispered, barely able to speak.

"Hang on. There's another bit," he said, taking her hand gently. "Come and see."

There was another door leading off the baby's bedroom; he ushered her through it, and inside seemed to be some kind of relaxation room for her. It was furnished with a huge armchair filled with cushions and woven blankets, a TV built into the wall, and a smaller bookcase filled with what she found to be all of her favourite books, even the archaeology ones- the thought that had gone into it finally made tears spill over the rims of her eyes.

She felt his fingers brush against hers. "Is it ok?"

River wandered back out into the main room, spinning around to face him. He was wringing his hands nervously, eyes skipping around the room to check that everything was perfect.

"When did you do this?" she asked tearfully, gazing around the room in awe.

He smiled softly. "You know I've been coming in here every night."

"But- you told Rory- that…"

"Well, I couldn't have him ruin the surprise, could I?"

Her brow furrowed. "He said you were- knitting, playing- Jenga, and… reading?"  
The Doctor nodded over to the wardrobe. "Well, I needed to fill that with some clothes…" he gestured to the toy boxes, "find some suitable toys to go in there- which Jenga isn't, by the way, I almost swallowed one of the pieces- and the books, well, I had to see if they were any good if they're going to be our son and daughter's bedtime stories."

River swallowed. "So… you weren't…"

"Trying to get away from you?" he finished gently, shaking his head. "No."

River sniffed. "But-"

"But nothing, River," he interjected. "Your mother's right; you are everything to me, and I'm not going to leave you; not now, certainly not when you become a mother; not ever." He sighed, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Why… why do you still think that?"

A guilty sob caught in her throat. "Because- because that's what you do! You're the Doctor; you don't do normal- you've _never _settled down-!"

"Because I've never been offered that privilege," he reminded her softly. "And because I've never found anybody whose life I want to be part of for the rest of my days; until now."

Her shoulders drooped in defeat, gazing at him with helplessly glistening eyes. He closed the distance between them, cupping her bump in one hand and her cheek in the other. "If you'll have me, River Song, then I will never let you go. And I'm going to be here with you to bring our son and daughter into the Universe, to raise them to be as brilliant and beautiful as you are; to care for all three of you. I promise that you can trust me."  
She forced herself to cast another glance around the nursery in a feeble attempt to distract herself from the fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "It's so beautiful in here," she whispered.

His smile warmed her. "I'm glad you think so. It's just for- if you all come to visit, um… I know you can't all live here, too dangerous, but- it's always here anyway, if it's ever needed."

She pulled him in a sudden tight hug, holding him as close as she possible could despite her stomach. "I love you," she whispered, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Thank you so much, for- for everything. I do trust you, Doctor- I'm sorry, it's just… it's hard for me to understand sometimes why I'm your exception… especially when I'm feeling like this."

There was a little moment of calm hush. "River… you know why you're my exception."

For the first time in her whole life, she believed she did. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

River pulled back, keeping her hands curled tightly around his jacket sleeves. "When they get here… our lives are never going to be the same again. All the things we used to do… they're behind us. I know you can still travel, and you will," she insisted, raising her eyebrows at him before he protested. "You will, but… we'll be a family, we'll have… _huge_ responsibilities…"

He nodded patiently. "What was your question?"

She took a deep breath. "Doesn't it- frighten you? I mean, don't you think you'll… get bored? I know what you're like if anyone even tells you to sit down for five minutes, and having to raise two children…"

"Having a family isn't boring!" he declared, so firmly that it almost made her hands slip from his arms. "River, we're going to have two whole new people in our lives that will grow and learn and live every single day. That's the most exciting thing there is! We can show them so many wonderful things; teach them all about the Universe. Yes, I might not be one for settling down, or staying still, but staying still with you, and these?" he asked softly, his hands slipping to cradle her stomach. "Imagine all the days we have ahead of us, all the things waiting in the future, River. It's going to be _amazing_." He rested his thumb in the dimple that formed in her cheek when she smiled. "Now, I think you need some sleep, don't you?"

She nodded meekly. "I'm sorry I keep doing this. It's just with the hormones, every time I'm tired, or… hungry, or, well, anything, I just go back to square one and end up crying for no bloody good reason," she realised with a sulky sigh.

The Doctor smiled. "Don't worry. In two months, we'll have two very important people in our lives who'll be doing the exact same thing."


	33. Naming Names

_**~ The time has come to choose baby names for the twins... ~**_

_***Disclaimer: the names for our OCs were chosen for the reasons stated within the chapter- we know nobody with these names and they were inspired through their meaning alone, not other people/characters- just in case you're wondering.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

"We need names."

Her sudden declaration made the Doctor look up from his tea with a frown. "We have names. And several pseudonyms between us too, actually…"

River threw him an almost pitying look. "For the babies, sweetie."

"Oh. Oh! We do!" He bounced on the sofa excitedly, a huge grin on his face.

"And seeing as we have two, how about we each pick one name? I'll pick the boy's; you can pick the girl's."

He smiled, realising from the shimmer in her eyes that this was not a thought that had just popped into her head. He loved the idea of her thinking secretly about their future. "Ok! Ooh, I have so many ideas-"

She raised a finger along with her eyebrow. "I have rules."

"Nothing changes."

She ignored his wry smile. "Firstly, no Gallifreyan; I'm sorry, but I'd like our children to be able to pronounce their own names. In fact, we're sticking to Earth names so they fit in here, so no giving her some traditional Raxicoricofallapatorian title, ok?" When he nodded meekly, she drew breath in through her teeth. "Which brings me to my next rule: no naming her after any your… exes," she said firmly.

She saw his eyes flash, the way they did when he had forgotten just for a brief moment exactly how much he had told her. "What do you mean, exes?" he squeaked, feigning innocence.

"Well, ex friends, ex… more-than-friends. Anyone you used to know, basically."

"River… that's a _lot_ of people!" he exclaimed in protest.

"Well, just choose a name that doesn't immediately conjure up another girl's face in your head whenever you say it, alright?" she told him, an edge to her voice. "She's our daughter, and I want her to have a name that's new and that's _ours_, not the result of you being a nostalgic idiot."

"Ok." He kissed the icy expression off her face tentatively, pulling back with a furrowed brow. "Hang on. Does that apply to middle names too? Because I sort of had an idea…"

She smiled, knowing exactly what he was thinking because it was what she was thinking too.

In that moment, the middle names of their children were decided without the need of words.

River nudged him, biting back an excited smile. "I've got my name."

"Already?" he yelped.

She hummed, lifting her mug of tea from the coffee table to take a leisurely sip and excruciatingly offering him no more information.

"Well? What is it?"

He took hold of her hands when they curled up in her lap like shy creatures. "You might hate it," she mumbled.

He let go of one of her hands to tilt her chin up. "If it was chosen by you, I'm very sure I won't."

River surrendered with a little sigh that was supposed to sound impatient. "It's Elliott."

She said it in a near-whisper, the name rolling off her tongue like a soft lullaby before she steeled herself and her eyes flew up to him accusingly. "You're not saying anything."

"Oh- sorry, it's brilliant! It's magnificent! It's… wonderful," he cried quickly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you just saying that because of the hormones?"

"No! No. It's perfect, River. I love it." He wrapped one of her curls around his finger, brushing it back before resting his fingertips against her forehead. "But it came from in here, so I was always going to."

She smiled gratefully. "You haven't had any pets called Elliott, have you?"

He sighed. "I wish you wouldn't call them that."

"You call them _companions_, for god's sake. That's far worse! Come on, sweetie, step out of the sixties."

"Alright!" he muttered, pouting at her sulkily. "No, I haven't."

"Because it's not a girl's name," she smirked, resuming a mock serious expression when he glared at her. "I'm sorry."

He smiled. "Ok. Is there a reason behind Elliott?"

River shrugged coyly. "I've always loved the name; I picked it when I was young, you know how girls do. Well, you probably don't. But I thought if I had-" She cut herself off abruptly, as if realising just what she was admitting but then with a wince that it was too late to take it back. "Well, I thought if I had children one day and I had a boy then that would be his name," she concluded in a gallop, picking at one of the sofa cushions.

He gazed at her bow head, half bemused and half feeling himself falling further in love with her as he did with every confession that came from her lips. "I thought you never… wanted children."

"Well, I mean… I…" She shrugged. "Maybe I did, sometimes, a little bit. Shut up."

He did, of course; largely out of fear, as she had more than enough of a bump to squash him flat. But when she finally gave in and looked up she offered him one of those barely-there smiles with soft eyes that made his hearts flutter. "And anyway, I did some research into the name-"

"Archaeologist…"

"Second warning; I will sit on you. I did some research," she went on calmly, "And I found out that not only is it Scottish in origin, but it was initially the name of a river. So, Elliott essentially comes from a river. I think it's rather apt." Her smile suddenly grew, unashamed and already so in love with their children and more beautiful than he thought it was possible to be. He couldn't stop studying the glowing features of her face. "Plus- the translation means brave and true. And those are the two things I want our son to be."

"River," he whispered softly, not able to say much else. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her that lopsided grin that made her giggle. "It sounds like the perfect name."

Amy waltzed in before she could draw him into a kiss. "What are you two being gooey about?"

"We're name-picking," the Doctor announced proudly.

"Ooh!" Amy clapped her hands together, flopping onto the sofa next to them. "Hold on; _we_…?"

"Well, yes…" The Doctor glanced took a sip of his tea, blissfully unaware of the incredulous look Amy threw River until her snigger made him look up. "What?"

"You're brave!" Amy whispered to her daughter, apparently looking straight through him.

River laughed. "I know."

"What- what do you mean?"

The synchronised raise of their eyebrows could have been rehearsed. "Sweetie, we both know you have a bit of a reputation for christening people with ridiculous names. I mean, I've been Mrs Robinson, Candyfloss, Hell in High Heels; and those are just the tame ones. Rory's been The Last Centurion, Beaky, Roranicus Pondicus; Amy's been Big Ginge, Big Milk Thing, and perhaps most creepily as a name for your mother-in-law, The Legs." She counted them off on her hands, concluding with a victorious smirk as his arms flapped around uselessly.

"Well- yes, but- they're just _nicknames_, it's different!"

"And then there was Stormageddon…" Amy reminded him.

"He- he _chose_ that name!"

* * *

She found the Doctor curled up on the sofa, looking slightly exasperated. There was a pile of at least six books on the coffee table in front of him; the title of the top read _The A to Z of Baby Names_.

"Why did you get so many?" she asked as she came to sit next to him, quite a difficult procedure with such a swollen stomach.

"I thought they might have had different names from each other."

"Do they?"

"…No."

She watched him with a little smirk as he flicked through the pages of yet another book at alarming speed. "Sweetie, I think you're getting a bit too stressed about this."

"Well, it's my daughter's name; I want it to be cool. And I want you to like it, seeing as you and Amy were being mean about it before," he mumbled sulkily.

"If I don't like the name, you'll know about it. If you're going to freak out, then I'll just choose it-"

"That's not fair! You've got Elliott!"

"Then just choose a bloody name!"

"Don't pressure me!"

She rolled her eyes, taking the packet of Jammie Dodgers from where they lay on the table. He watched her with narrowed eyes over the top of his book. "Those are mine," he said slowly.

She scoffed. "Are you serious? I'm eating for three; it's very brave of you to deny me food."

"Fine… just _one_."

She made sure he was watching as she ate her way through six.

"They're not for me," she told him with a mock air of sincerity. "They're for our _babies_."

"Hmm. How many are we having?" he muttered into his book.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, dear," he answered with a little mischievous smile.

She put the packet down, folding her arms over her stomach with a pout. "I hope you pick a rubbish name."

Rory wandered in, suppressing a smirk when he saw the expression on his daughter's face. "What have you done now?" he asked the Doctor.

"He called me fat," River interjected before he could reply.

The Doctor gasped. "I did _not_!"

"Doctor," Rory scolded, repeating that phrase that all three of them had rehearsed so many times they uttered it almost subconsciously. "She's not fat, she's _pregnant_."

"She just ate six of my Jammie Dodgers!" he cried.

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen!" River hissed cynically.

"You're such a hypocrite," Rory said with a wry smile. "I've seen you eat your way through at _least_ seven packets in a day, and you're only eating for one. You've got no excuse."

He sulked until Rory left the room, much to River's amusement. "I didn't call you fat," he protested when he caught her smirk.

"I know. But I love it when my dad tells you off; it's hilarious. What? I have to find some form of entertainment around here. I'm pregnant."

* * *

She was reading a book in bed when the sound of soft footsteps made her look up.

"Hey."

"Hi, sweetie," she murmured, her eyes drifting back to her book.

He came to sit next to her, crossing his legs underneath him and twirling his hands pensively. He sat there for a little while in silence before any words actually came out.

"I think… I have a name."

She raised her eyebrows. "Do you?"

He nodded, making his hair flop into his eyes.

"…Are you keeping it a secret?" she asked with a smirk. When he sighed, she put her book down and propped herself up on the pillows. "Come on, then. Give me our daughter's name."

His eyes flickered up to her warily. "You might not like it."

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

He nodded, and took a deep breath, holding it for an extraordinary amount of time before he told her the name, in an adorably tiny voice.

"Freya."

He kept his eyes locked in hers hopefully, letting a little beat of silence pass between them.

"Freya?" she echoed softly.

He hummed, running a hand through his hair. When she didn't speak for a good few seconds he looked away from her, picking at the duvet. "It's just- it doesn't matter, you can just pick her name, it's-"

"I love it."

His eyes lit up, a nervous grin spreading across his face. "You do?"

"Yes!" She took hold of his hands. "Freya Amelia Song, Doctor- that's beautiful!"

"Really?"

She nodded, blinking back tears that had unexpectedly blurred her eyes. "How did you choose it?"

He shrugged. "I just saw it in one of the books, and… I thought it was nice. It means lady; I thought it was fitting, considering she's really going to be the first official Time Lady since Gallifrey was lost. The only one in the Universe," he smiled proudly.

"It's perfect. Come here."

"Why?"

"Because I'd lean forwards, but my planet-sized stomach gets in the way."

He smiled. "It's only a _small_ planet."

"Don't ruin the moment, sweetie."

"Sorry." He shuffled closer to let her kiss him.

* * *

_**So there we are! The names are chosen.**_

_**Hope you're enjoying it. Please share your thoughts!**_

_**LP&amp;B x**_


	34. Mud, Stuck, Sex

**Thanks again for the support. We love you all. x**

**Three mini snippets here; the Doctor is still ever the hyperactive man-child while River, fast approaching her due date, is experiencing some difficulties as well as certain side-effects...**

* * *

"We have a name for the girl," River told her with a proud smile. "Freya."

"Oh, that's beautiful, River! What did the Doctor come up with?"

"Actually, Freya was his."

"Wow, really? He actually picked something normal? I just assumed he'd come up with something related to hats, or- bow ties, and you got to name her."

"I know; I was surprised, too. But I love it."

"Me too," Amy grinned.

"So, we have Elliott Rory Song, and Freya Amelia Song. We've got the clothes, the nurseries are done here, in the Tardis and at my flat, and I've read all the books… now all I have to do is actually have them."

Amy laughed at her shudder. "You'll be fine. I don't know about the Doctor, but… _you'll_ be fine."

"It's weird. I've grown used to being a human bowling ball. I might miss it."

"You'll have two kids to keep you busy, though. Well, three," she smiled, just as the Doctor skidded into the kitchen.

River raised her eyebrows incredulously. "What in god's name have you got all over your face?"

"Um, mud. I may have fallen over playing football."

She sighed, going to the sink and running a cloth under the tap. "Come here," she instructed, holding his chin in her hand to clean his face. "You're filthy. It was raining last night; I told you you'd slip."

"Sorry."

"It's too late in the year to be playing football in the garden anyway. Stay on the concrete, ok? And go and get changed; your shirt's caked in mud, and you're not getting it all over the sofa."

* * *

Leaning forwards had become an incredibly difficult procedure. Admitting defeat, River flopped back against the cushions with groan and shouted for her husband.

"Doctor!"

He appeared about half a second later, looking a bit flustered- he always did now, with less than six weeks to go. "What's wrong?"

"Would you, um, pass the remote please?"

His eyes flitted from her to where the remote lay on the table, as if calculating the incredibly short distance between them. She looked up at him pleadingly until he passed it to her.

"Thanks." She shot him a warning glare when a smile began to creep into the corners of his mouth.

He snuggled up next to her, rubbing her stomach with a little smile; it seemed to be a habit that he'd developed, but then again, her bump was so ridiculously huge by now that it was like an open invitation for people to touch. Just the other day, she'd been buying several bars of chocolate from the shop when an old woman she'd never seen before in her life had spent a good ten minutes with her hands pressed to it as she'd told her about her seven- _seven_\- pregnancies.

"How are you feeling?" the Doctor asked.

"Pregnant."

"Yes. Well. That's normal." He grinned. "Not long now, though."

"Ugh. Don't remind me." She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling incredibly sorry for herself. "Sweetie?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there any ice cream left?"

"No… I think you, um, ate all of it." He gasped suddenly, making her jump. "Oh!"

"Can you not do that? I don't want to be shocked into early labour."

"I just remembered, there's some ice cream in the Tardis, I stocked up the other week. Do you want some?"  
"What do you think?"

"Ok. Come with me!" he cried, hopping off the sofa. He reached the doorway before he noticed that she hadn't moved, and spun back around to face her with a frown.

She sat gazing at him longingly until a little smile spread across his face. "You can't get up, can you?"

"It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing." He skipped back over to her, taking hold of her hands.

* * *

"You know," River started slowly, rolling her head to the side to look at the Doctor. "I read that, sometimes, sex can induce labour…"

Amy raised an eyebrow at the Doctor, interested to see how he'd react to this one. Despite him having babies with her daughter, it was still a bit strange to hear him talk with someone like this.

"That's nice," he murmured flatly, without looking up from his magazine.

She sighed impatiently. "Come on, sweetie, help me out here! I'm so uncomfortable!"

"Join the club."

Amy smirked at River. "I'm starting to think this pregnancy was more your fault than his."

She snorted. "Don't be fooled. That coyness is all a front."

His eyes floated to her casually over the top of his magazine. "Do you want me to tell your mother the story of our anniversary, or…?"

It was enough to shut River up. She watched the Doctor, chewing her lip restlessly. "Can't we just-?"

"No."

There was a little silence. "Please-?"

"No."

"Oh god, I am literally begging you. What's happening to me?" she muttered to herself, before looking at her husband beseechingly. "You see how desperate I am here? Sex works; it's a well-known fact-!"

"Spicy food works, too. Go and have a curry. Make sure you get a family-size one; it'll need to last you till breakfast…"

"I _hate_ you," she muttered with a scowl, not liking that he had become comfortable enough around her to mock her.

He smiled wryly. "That's it, honey. Get me in the mood."

"Oh, I could if I wanted to."

"You can't stand up on your own; I think I'm safe."

She folded her arms. "Fine; I'll just phone Jack, and ask him."

It didn't have the impact she wanted it to. He flicked over a page of his magazine with a little smile. "Tell him I said hello."

"I will!"


	35. Ok

_**It's time...**_

* * *

The Doctor was fast asleep next to her, for one of the first times. She suspected it would be one of the last too, judging by what had awoken her.

She nudged his shoulder until he stirred, whispering his name. When his eyes flickered open, she told him in an uncontrollably shaking voice. "My waters just broke."

He shot upright so fast that he almost knocked her out, his hair sticking up comically on one side. "Right… ok. Ok. Ok… ok-"

"Stop saying ok!"

"Sorry, um- right…" He ran a hand through his hair, breathing out slowly as his eyes darted to her stomach. "Ok. Sorry. Plan, plan, plan… we have a plan. Yes? Ok… ok. Come on."

His panic would have been funny, had she not been physically shivering with her own. He leapt out of bed and flounced over to her side, offering her his hands.

She stayed perched on the edge of the bed, feeling a little lost as he whizzed around the room as if on fast forward. "Ok, we've got your bag… ok… top… bottoms… shoes…" He pulled the outfit that she had picked out just the other day out of the wardrobe, a loose red smock top, leggings and sandals, and placed each of them next to her on the bed with irrational carefulness. He got out the bag that they'd packed together too, setting it down beside the door.

She looked at her clothes helplessly, wondering how long she could put this off by just sitting in her pyjamas. "You need to get ready too, sweetie," she reminded the Doctor, catching him just sort of standing in the middle of the room.

"Right… right," he mumbled distractedly, getting his clothes from the back of the door.

She stared straight ahead; amongst all the chaos he had forgotten to even switch the lamp on, so the only source of light was that of the lampposts filtering through the curtains.

She didn't realise quite how long she had remained still for until she looked up to see the Doctor doing his bow tie, pyjamas folded up neatly on the end of the bed. She hadn't even seen him get ready.

"You should get dressed, River," he whispered gently, seeing that she was on pause. She looked from him to her pile of clothes uselessly, not quite having the strength to move.

He watched her for a moment, remembering that night seven months ago when he had sat with her in here, mere hours after he'd discovered she was pregnant. She reminded him of the River he'd seen that night, looking so afraid that he wished he could do something to help her.

He came to kneel in front of her, prising her clasped hands apart to hold them in his. "Are you ok?"

She nodded faintly, exhaling. "I'm just… having a minute."

He smiled, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears. If nothing else, he knew that he could be here, and he could be brave for her. That was something.

Knowing that if there was any time when she needed someone to guide her, it was now, he helped River to her feet and handed her the clothes. "Here. I'll go and wake your parents, ok?"

She nodded, and he pressed a kiss to the bridge of her nose. He was just about to pull away, but she wouldn't let him, gripping his wrist and spinning him back around to throw her arms around his neck.

He didn't say anything, as if sensing how much she needed it, and did his best to hug her back despite her ridiculously huge bump between them. She buried her nose in his shoulder as he swayed her gently from side to side, winding a hand through her hair.

When she pulled back silently, he held her face up in his hands. "Hey. It's going to be fine, you know. More than fine; the best day of your life," he assured her.

She gave him a watery smile. "What about yours?"

"Of course," he grinned.

* * *

He left her to get ready once he'd done enough to make her smile, knocking softly on Amy and Rory's bedroom door.

He took an untranslatable and rather aggressive grumble on the other side as the best invitation he was going to get. "Ponds!" he whispered, sounding more excited than he knew he felt. It was mostly nerves, at this stage.

They squinted at him through the darkness, looking as if they wanted to shoot him.

"What do you _want_, Doctor?" Amy hissed.

"River, babies, now!" he answered with a grin, knowing that would be all they'd need. He was right; they both scrambled to sit up as if they'd been electrocuted.

"Oh my god!"

"Now?" Rory echoed.

"Now! Come on, we have to go. Put some clothes on: you're going to be grandparents!"

Leaving them fumbling desperately to get ready, he ran back to River's room.

She had managed to get ready, and sat on the edge of the bed cradling her bump affectionately.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she murmured, looking up at him for a soft smile. "I'm just… enjoying it. It's the last time I'll be able to feel them kicking."

He came to sit next to her, placing a tender hand on her stomach and grinning when he felt the force of feet. "We'll be meeting them soon."

"I know." She bit her lip. "Big day…"

He wound his fingers around hers, helping her to stand up. "We best get going."

She had just slipped her coat on when a sharp pain made her clutch her stomach with a gasp.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, wheeling around when he heard her exclamation. Seeing the discomfort etched into her face, he closed the distance between them. "Contraction?" he asked softly.

She nodded, wincing when the pain intensified and screwing her eyes shut. She felt the Doctor take hold of her hands, holding onto them tightly.

"It's ok. Just breathe, you're alright. Breathe."

Much to her annoyance, she found herself remembering the antenatal classes, and breathed just as they'd taught her until the pain subsided.

"Ok?" he asked, once her eyes had opened again.

"Yeah," she whispered shakily, slightly taken aback by how much it had hurt.

He kissed her forehead; keeping hold of her hands- the fear in her voice was evident, and unlike he'd ever heard her speak. "You're going to be fine. Let's get going."

She tried to fasten her coat; it was a little difficult, with her hands trembling so violently. She was rather grateful when the Doctor wordlessly prised her hands away, and did the buttons up for her.


	36. Gas and Air

_**Ready for River in labour?**_

_**If you say so...**_

* * *

"A girl and a boy!" the midwife cooed, beaming over the top of the file. "You're very lucky. Now, how are your contractions?"

"They're not too bad yet, I don't think."

"Well, you still have a while to go. Just sit tight. I'm sure your husband will take good care of you. Give me a buzz if you need anything; I'll be in to check on you every few minutes, see how you're progressing, ok?"

She could only nod, watching the midwife leave the room. She supposed this was how dogs felt watching their owners walk away at the kennels.

"How're you doing?" the Doctor asked, tucking her hair behind her ears.

She sighed, puffing out her cheeks. "I can't believe this is happening now."

He grinned nervously. "It's exciting, isn't it?"

"Yeah… and just a bit, a _tiny_ bit, terrifying too. I need a glass of wine," she remarked pensively.

"Hah. That's probably not the best idea. But hey, you'll be able to have wine again after today! That's good, isn't it?"

She shook her head. "I can't have alcohol while I'm breastfeeding."

"Oh. Well, you'll be able to have wine again in a few months."

"Maybe I could have the odd glass. I think that's allowed. This would be so much more fun if I was drunk."

"You've got the gas and air. I believe it has a similar effect."

"I need to tie my hair back; it's getting on my nerves. Could you do it?"

"Ok, um… I don't have a tie."

"Just- find something."

"Right…" Finding only one item that seemed to fit the bill, he unfastened his bow tie and whipped it from around his neck. "This should do it." He gently scraped her curls behind her ears, tying them up neatly.

* * *

"I can't do this!" she wailed, pressing her palms to her eyes. "It's been nineteen _hours_, Doctor, it hurts so _much_!"

He rubbed her back soothingly, feeling utterly helpless. "It's ok, River, this is all perfectly normal-"

Her hands fell away from her face, and she glared at him so intensely he thought he might spontaneously combust. "When _you_ have two _whole people _who won't get out of YOU, _sweetie_, you can tell me what NORMAL is," she growled.

Her anger only lasted for half a second longer. He blinked in surprise when her façade abruptly fell away and she collapsed against him, sobbing heavily into his chest.

He sort of wished she'd kept on screaming at him.

"Don't leave me," she mumbled into his shirt.

He wound his fingers through her hair. "You know I won't."

"I don't know what to do!" she cried, her voice muffled. "I'm so tired, and- and I can't-!"

Hearing familiar hysteria building up in her voice, he held her closer. "Shh. It's ok. You're going to be fine, I promise you."

He felt as if he'd said that too much today, but knew that there wasn't much else he could do.

"I thought it would be easier than this. I thought I'd be- calm! I was going to be calm, everything's _ruined_…"

Oh, the joys of gas and air. He had never seen the full effect before, and it would have been amusing had the sound of his wife's crying not been breaking his hearts. "Everything's not ruined, honey. You haven't got long to go; and then you'll forget all about this bit. You'll see."

She pulled back to look up at him beseechingly. Her eyes were red and swollen, standing out garishly from the rest of her ashen, tear-streaked skin. "I just want our babies!"

"They'll be here soon, River. And you'll be able to see them, and hold them, and spend every single day of the rest of your life with them."

Any reassurance he had brought to her diminished as yet another contraction gripped her. He quickly found her hands, not even wincing when she came close to breaking the bones in his fingers.

"How are you doing?"

The midwife's cheery voice startled them as she marched into the room, looking too happy for River's liking.

"Please! Come here! Help me! I must be ready now!" she implored breathlessly.

"How are your contractions?"

"They're getting closer together," the Doctor informed her.

"Right, let's have a look at you. Hold on… ah. Eight centimetres," she declared.

Horror set in on River's face. "What? No!" she wailed, pleading her case through sobs. "Look, I'm ready now, please, _please_, just let me have them, please, I can't _do_ this anymore!"

The midwife smiled kindly. "Sorry. Not until you're at ten centimetres."

"What difference does two centimetres make?!" she cried incredulously.

She laughed, much to her irritation. "You'll thank me."

River's eyes followed her in an intense glower as she left the room, before her head rolled towards the Doctor. "Do something!"

He frowned bemusedly. "Like what?"

"I don't know! Can't you, like, get down there and- stretch it?"

He looked slightly disturbed. "Um- I don't think that's physically possible."

"Oh, come on! It's only two centimetres!"

"Look, you don't have to wait much longer. I promise."

* * *

"I want my _mum_!" she cried. "I need my mum…"

The Doctor smoothed her curls, now a mass of matted salty frizz due to her tears. "Do you want me to go and get her?"

River nodded, although he had to physically prise her hands away from him. "I'll just be a second, ok? You'll be fine."

She looked so afraid that he wished he could summon his mother-in-law with the power of thought. He never thought he'd be so reluctant to leave her for half a minute.

He ran into the corridor so fast that he almost fell flat on his back. Amy jumped up to catch him. "Whoa! Is everything alright, are the twins here?"

"No," he answered as he ran a hand through his hair, assuming by her expression that he must have looked rather fraught. "River wants you, she's all upset and hurting and scared and, and, and I can't- she needs you," he said in one breath.

"Ok," she soothed, letting him grab her hand. "Doctor, have you been on the gas and air?"

"No, I just- no, I- just-"

"Oi," she barked, spinning him around to face her just before they went back into the room. "Listen, raggedy man, you have got to calm _down_, ok? Your wife- my daughter- is in there, and she needs you to be cool for once in your life! Now, breathe, get in that room, and you hold her hand until she breaks the bones in your fingers or I swear to god I will stop her from seeing you, and I'm her mother, so I can do that. Got it?"

He swallowed, nodding meekly. Much like her daughter, an angry Amy was really rather persuasive.

"Mum!" River sobbed the second they went back in, holding her arms out towards Amy.

"Hey," she smiled, coming to sit next to her on the bed. River gripped her jacket as if her life depended on it, crying into her chest. "How's it going?"

"I can't!" she wailed dramatically. Amy and the Doctor exchanged pitiful glances over the top of River's head. "I don't want to do it anymore, Mummy, I've changed my mind, can we- do that thing, with the box, that's… blue…"

"Blimey. How much gas and air have you had?" Amy smiled.

"Not enough," River mumbled thickly with a sulky pout.

"You can do this, Melody. I know you can."

"No."

"Yep," Amy assured her. "You'll be fine. I promise."

"You sound like the…" She trailed off with a yell as another contraction came over her. Amy and the Doctor each gripped a hand.

River looked up at her mother. "I'm scared," she whispered.

"You've got nothing to be scared about."

"What if it goes wrong? What if they're conjoined or, they have, two heads, or no eyes, or an extra leg-"

"River, they're going to be perfect," the Doctor assured her. "Just like their mum."

"You don't _know_ that! This is all your fault!" she mumbled half-heartedly.

* * *

"Ah, ten centimetres; we're ready!"

River lifted her head off the pillow, staring at the midwife in disbelief. "What?"

She smiled at her. "It's time to have your babies, Professor."

"Oh."

She felt the air begin to whoosh around her. "Hey," the Doctor whispered, kissing the side of her head. "There you go. I said you wouldn't have to wait much longer."

His voice could have been miles away; her hand grew clammy in his. "I've changed my mind. I'm not ready."

The midwife smiled. "Come on now, Professor. You've been telling me all day how much you want this to be over!"

"But- can it be over if I just- skip the next bit?"

"I'm afraid the next bit's compulsory. But you know what the bit after the next bit is; you'll get to say hello to your little boy and girl! Now, are you feeling like you need to push?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Good! That's exactly what I want you to do. When the next contraction comes, I want you to give me a big push, ok?"

She nodded, trying to steady her breathing as the midwife helped her to sit up. The Doctor kept his hand on her back as support, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. She gripped his hand as if her life depended on it. "It's ok," he whispered, seeing how much she was shaking. "I'm here."

* * *

_**Next up... you're about to meet two very special people indeed. **_

_**Thanks ever so much for reading, please let us know your thoughts! x**_


	37. Freya

A tiny wail swelled through the room. River burst into tears at the sound, going weak in the Doctor's arms.

"And it's a girl!" The midwife announced softly, wrapping the tiny creature in a towel and rubbing her back until the cries softened. "Here you are," she whispered, gently laying the squirming bundle on River's stomach.

She hadn't practiced for this; she had no idea what to do, how to hold this brand new life that she had created, but in that moment any fear seemed to melt away as she cradled her new-born baby girl close to her and whispered a heartfelt greeting in between overwhelmed sobs.

"Hey, my little girl," she murmured, peppering kisses along her little crinkled forehead. She quietened down, whining quietly and kicking her tiny feet. River felt her heart swell.

She could have stayed like this forever, lost in a bubble of perfect time studying everything about her baby daughter through watery eyes. When she finally glanced up, her eyes met with the Doctor's and a tearful giggle escaped her. "She's our baby!"

She barely noticed in her state that he was crying, too. He gazed at her for a moment with shimmering eyes before he bowed his head to see their baby, utterly transfixed. He cupped her tiny head in his palms, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose and whispering the name he had chosen.

"Hello, Freya."

Seeing him like this brought fresh tears cascading down her cheeks. "You're so beautiful," she murmured to their daughter. "Oh, our baby Freya, you're so perfect!"

"She's gorgeous," the midwife remarked. "I'm afraid I'll have to take her off your hands when you're ready, though; they'll get her cleaned up while we bring her little brother along!"

Freya was plucked from her arms before she could say goodbye or find the strength to cling to her for dear life, being swept from the room and drowning them in silence with the ceasing of her cries.

River stared at the closed door with tragically shimmering eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "No," she mumbled weakly. "Where's she gone? Bring her back!"

"You'll see her soon, Professor," the midwife assured her.

"But…" River's face crumpled, her arms still in the position they had taken to hold her daughter. She turned to the Doctor helplessly.

"It won't be long until your next contraction, Professor; your son will be along in a minute-"

She shook her head, gripping onto her husband's arms with a heavy sob. "I don't want to. I can't do it, tell her I can't do it!"

"Now, Professor, you're doing so well; we're almost there!"

The midwife's attempts at reassurance were lost on her. "No!" she cried desperately. "Can't I just, keep him in there for a few more weeks? I can do it, I promise, I'll just cross my legs-!"

"I'm afraid it looks like he doesn't feel like waiting."

River pressed her hands to her face with a groan, shoulders shaking with uneven sobs. "No!" she whimpered, sounding so very heartbroken that the Doctor was propelled out of the dreamy haze he had sunk into on seeing his daughter.

"River. Hey. Come on." He unwrapped his wife from the little ball she had curled herself into, finding her hand and holding onto it tightly. She looked up at him with glistening eyes, a red tint along her cheeks and her hair sticking out in wild tendrils.

She looked _beautiful_. Seeing the adoration shining through the tears in her eyes, this new sensation that had arrived with their daughter- their daughter who looked so astoundingly like River that it shocked him- he felt something so overwhelming that it made his hearts swell.

"I can't do this!" she told him quietly, biting her lip and returning his gaze imploringly.

"Yes, you can."

She attempted to hide away from the world again. "I _can't_!"

"Look at me, River." He cupped her chin in his hand, brushing the tears from her face. Thinking of what she had given him today, he wanted to give her everything in return. She needed, and deserved, something to help her be as brave as he knew she could be.

So for the first time in all their lives, he gave the mother of his children the words she had never heard. "I _know_ that you can do this." An irrepressible smile found him as his eyes fell into hers. Perhaps it was the euphoria from seeing his child that took away his fear, that pushed the words from his mouth, but he meant them more than anything he had ever said. "I love you, you amazing woman."

For a beautiful moment River seemed to utterly forget about the pain, new tears forming in her eyes as his words hit her. She shook her head slowly, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"I…"

He would never know what she would have replied with; it was all she managed before she stopped with an agonised cry, clutching her stomach.

"Here comes baby number two!" the midwife told them. And River managed a smile as she gripped onto her husband's hand.


	38. Elliott

Elliott was smaller than his sister and beautifully peaceful as the midwife placed him in River's arms.

His little eyes were screwed shut, squirming sleepily as River traced his rosy cheeks with her finger. "Hello, sweetie," she whispered, giggling tearfully when he yawned. "Oh, look at him, Doctor, he's so beautiful!" she whispered, awe in her voice that she'd never felt before.

The Doctor stooped to kiss him, just as he had with their daughter. "It's nice to meet you, Elliott Song. Welcome to the Universe."

Magically, their son's eyes opened with his words, squinting against the hospital lights.

"Hey!" River murmured through sobs, rocking him in her arms. "My gorgeous boy; if you ever get a girlfriend, remember I love you more, ok?"

She heard the Doctor laugh. "Remind me to tell Freya that."  
Their eyes met when he lifted his head, half in shock and half every other emotion all at once.

"You see," he whispered. "I knew you could do it."

He made fresh tears spill over the rims of her eyes as she remembered what he had told her minutes before, but her smile could have lit up the Cosmos. "We're parents, Doctor."

He smiled, dipping his head to kiss her shoulder. "I know."

She watched him as he stroked Elliott's cheek gently, an adoring sparkle in his eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "For helping me do this. All of this."

"It's my pleasure."

"I'm sorry I was…"

"No," he stopped her solemnly, brushing her hair back to kiss the side of her head. "You were wonderful. And I'm so proud of you."

They pressed their foreheads together. He pulled away to give her a soft kiss, and after three hundred years they were no longer alone.

* * *

**50 reviews! Wow! Thanks to every single person reading this, it's our privilege to write for you. We have a lot- a _lot- _planned for the two people you just met, so stay with us!**

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	39. Bigger Than Time and Space

_**We never dreamed of reaching 40 followers. Thank you to every single one of you, and anyone who's ever given this a glance. Your support means the world. x**_

_**Amy and Rory meet their grandchildren.**_

_**This one's for Sam, because it's her birthday too. We love you x**_

* * *

The nurse gave River a cushion to lay the babies on in her lap; they were snuggled up together, side by side, and she cradled a head in each palm. Each time their eyes flickered open reluctantly she'd murmur a warm greeting to them, kissing the tips of their noses and wrinkled foreheads and making them whine sleepily.

Amy and Rory tiptoed in a few peaceful moments later. "Hey," she murmured, looking up at them with a smile she hadn't possessed until today, one with every single emotion at once that made her eyes shimmer.

Her parents' gazes were transfixed on the two tiny bundles in her lap; they wandered over to her in a daze, sitting down on the chairs beside the bed without breathing. The Doctor followed them, perching on the bed next to her where he had sat for the last twenty three hours. She had dreamed about this; being surrounded by her family. He'd been right when he'd told her this would be the best day of their lives.

"Mum; Dad… meet your grandchildren," she whispered with a proud smile.

"Oh my god, River," Amy breathed in a voice thick with tears, leaning across to take hold of Freya's tiny pink hand. Rory did the same with Elliott, laughing when he clutched his finger tightly. "Hello! Are you Freya?" Amy whispered.

Her baby girl stirred, wriggling her feet in the blanket. River smoothed her tiny wisps of feathery hair, already kinking into little curls.

She supposed her parents were just as speechless as she was; a heavenly silence fell between them as they all studied the newest additions to their family. "She's beautiful," Amy beamed.

"I know."

"Takes after her mum," the Doctor said softly, making River turn to him with an affectionate smile. The rims of his eyes were still red, and he must have noticed the little flicker of concern for him that shadowed her face, because he kissed the tip of her nose in reassurance.

"What about you, Elliott?" Amy cooed, folding the blanket around her grandson who, unlike his sister, was fast asleep. His soft snores were one of the only things that filled the minutes of awestruck hush. "You're a quiet one, aren't you?"

"_Doesn't_ take after his mum," the Doctor grinned.

"Listen, Elliott," Rory whispered. "Us quiet ones got to stick together, ok? We're severely outnumbered in this family."

River laughed, watching her father lean across to kiss Elliott's forehead. "Do you want to hold them?"

Of course, they did. It was more difficult than she'd anticipated to let them go, but seeing them in her parents' arms was enough to reassure her just how safe they were as well as bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

"Oh, she's tiny," Amy breathed, cradling Freya with a loving smile.

"Six pounds, three ounces; Elliott is six pounds exactly."

"Wow, you really are tiny! Although, you weren't supposed to be here yet, were you?"

"I'm glad they are," River said. "I'm not sure I'd have been able to take another three weeks. Maybe I'll be able to get off sofas by myself now."

"How are you?" her mother asked, looking up at her with the kind of concern that she could only now understand, as a parent.

"Sore," she admitted with a wan smile. "But I'm… I can't even describe it," she decided, looking at her babies and swallowing a lump in her throat. "I didn't think I'd ever feel this happy."

Her voice caught, and she felt the Doctor's arm around her a moment later. When she turned back to him momentarily, she noticed something that made her frown. "Where's your bow tie?"

He nodded to her. "It's still in your hair."

"You gave up your _bow tie_ for her?" Amy asked disbelievingly, grinning. "That's love. First piece of advice, kids; bow ties are _not_ cool."

River laughed along with her parents, but as they concentrated on the babies she took a moment to pull the tie out of her hair and hand it back to the Doctor with a knowing smile.

"_I_ think it's cool," she whispered, and his whole face lit up.

They laid Elliott and Freya back on the cushion after a few beautifully peaceful minutes. The Doctor took hold of each of their hands with a brilliant smile, and River caught Amy's eye.

"Can _I_ hold them now?" he asked timidly.

River gasped, holding her free hand to her mouth. In the haste, the midwives had been so focussed on ensuring the only Time Lord children in the Cosmos were healthy that even she hadn't been awarded much time with them until now. When finally given the chance she'd been so absorbed in her beautiful brand new children that she'd barely been aware of anything else. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry! You haven't yet, have you?"

She felt a surge of guilt remembering that she had instructed him to go and fetch her parents, and he had frowned ever so briefly before doing exactly as she asked without any protest, leaving without getting the chance to hold his children. He'd been so lost in looking after her to think about himself, and the realisation made tears spring to her eyes. "Of course you can," she said hurriedly, breaking the intense gaze that had melded between them and trying a laugh, though it ended up being dangerously uneven.

Elliott lay closest to him, so River slid her hands under his fragile little body and head hesitantly, still not quite knowing how to handle something so precious. The Doctor came to her rescue, cupping her hands with his to stop their trembling so that they lifted their son together and brought him to rest snugly against the Doctor's chest. When River trusted him enough to take her hands away the Doctor shifted Elliott carefully in his arms to lay him in the crook of his elbow, freeing a hand to press his fingers to his baby son's chest and feel the thump of his hurried double-pulse for a moment before River lifted Freya to him and he tucked her safely in the cradle he made with his free arm.

"Hello, Mister and Miss Song," he murmured with a soft smile, the rest of the room slipping away in his vision so he was unaware of his wife's and parents-in-law's melting eyes on him. "I know you're brand new and right now the Universe must seem like a very big and scary place. But you should know that even though you might feel tiny, to us you are bigger and more important than anything else in the whole of time and space." He rocked them gently in his arms, soothing them to sleep with his voice. "We've waited a very long time for you, you know," he whispered. "The whole Universe has. And I'm very, very happy that you're here because I never thought I would be so lucky to have something as wonderful and precious as you. And because for all the mornings you were in Mummy's tummy I would wake up and just for a tiny second I'd forget you were in there and it was the worst feeling in the world. But remembering was the best, the _best _feeling and now I can see you every day it's always going to be there; and I am very much looking forward to that."

When he finally looked up, even Rory was crying.


	40. Balloons

"How is it, then?" Rory asked, coming to sit on the end of the bed and wringing his hands nervously. "Being a mum?"

"It's amazing," she told him with a bashful smile. "You haven't held Freya yet, have you?"

He hadn't, so she let him carefully lift her daughter from the cushion, cuddling her close.

"The nurse keeps reminding me I can put them in their cribs," she laughed. "I just don't want to let them go. I can't stop looking at them."

Freya whined sleepily, soon quieting down when her granddad rocked her from side to side.

"She looks like you," Rory remarked.

"That's what the Doctor said."

"Hmm… how's he doing with all of this?"

She shrugged, taking hold of Elliott's little hands and waving them gently. "He seems ok. I mean, he was… he was perfect, when I was in labour, he- he looked after me. He's looked after me the whole time… I don't know what I would have done without him here. I still can't believe he stayed, seven months ago. I thought when he found out, that would be it."

"I remember. You were terrified; when he came into the kitchen and heard you…"

"I know." She smiled to herself. "I wasn't even showing then; it feels like yesterday. I can't believe they're here, after everything that happened- all the stress, and hormones, and panicking…"

"It was worth it, though."

"Yeah," she agreed, as Rory gently placed Freya back on the cushion. "They're just the best thing that's ever happened to me. I can't believe how much I love them. The second I saw them, it was like my whole life changed; I used to think I'd mind losing my old life, being reckless and dangerous- I even thought that having children would be a big mistake, but… now, I could never see another planet again and I'd be happy. I never thought I'd have this, but now I do, I wouldn't do anything to change it." She rubbed Freya's stomach to calm her when she wriggled. "I don't know how I made something as perfect as these two; I can't believe they're mine."

"I can't believe they're the Doctor's," Rory smiled. "At least they don't have his chin."

River laughed. "Don't get excited yet. They could still inherit his fashion sense."

* * *

The Doctor pranced around the hospital shop like a five-year-old, a huge grin on his face.

"Amy! What do you think of this one?" he asked excitedly, shoving a huge purple teddy bear in front of her face.

"Doctor, you have literally a thousand toys at home. You can't buy the _whole_ shop."

He looked a little disappointed at this revelation, but it didn't last long; he came out with two balloons, one blue and one pink with BABY BOY and BABY GIRL printed on them, as well as a ridiculously huge bunch of mixed flowers. Amy bought two tiny plush teddies and a fluffy blanket.

"You just said we had enough toys!"

"Well, I have to get them something! They're my grandkids!" she hissed in the queue, earning an odd look from an elderly woman in front of them.

He frolicked out of the shop with the balloons, Amy watching him with a smirk and a shake of her head.

"So; how you doing?" she asked, falling into step with him.

"I'm fine," he replied casually, sniffing the flowers.

"Are you?" she asked disbelievingly. "I mean, it's been a big day for you, your whole life's changed- I didn't think you would be- you know… fine."

He glanced at her with a bright smile. "Why wouldn't I be? Have you seen your grandchildren, Amy?"

She grinned. "They're gorgeous, aren't they?"

"They are. And they're mine!" He skipped down the corridor with a bubbly giggle, making her laugh.

* * *

"Oh god," River laughed on seeing the balloons. "What the hell am I supposed to do with those?"

"Balloons are cool," he justified, getting a glass to place the flowers in on her bedside table before tying the balloons to the end of the bed.

"He insisted," Amy explained with a roll of her eyes, coming to sit next to River on the bed and lifting up the little gift bag. "I got them a little something, too."

They draped the blanket over the babies, tucking the teddies in next to them. "Oh my god, they look adorable!" Amy whispered.


	41. Together

_**River and the Doctor, as new parents, have a conversation about their babies and the future they'll share. Hope you enjoy it, thanks to everyone taking time to read this! x**_

* * *

"Do you think they know… who the other one is?"

River frowned at her husband. "What?"

"Well… do you think they recognise each other, from… in there?"

She smirked, although she'd been wondering the same thing herself. "The books said that, apparently, twins can have a bond. They did studies, and they showed that they have a form of psychic connection- when one feels something, the other feels it, too."

"That's cool," he murmured pensively, cupping Elliott's feet in his hand. "Don't you think it's odd, that this is what we could feel kicking you? Look how tiny they are."

She just smiled, smoothing Elliott's blanket with the hand that wasn't cradling Freya. "He's been asleep almost this whole time," she remarked softly.

"Well, he had a big day yesterday."

Elliott's hand curled sleepily, his fingers stretching as if trying to catch something in a dream. The Doctor took hold of it, shaking it gently. "Hey, little man."

They held their children for a while in peaceful silence. Eventually, the time came to put them in their little bassinet; the Doctor placed Elliott next to his sister carefully, watching them for a while with a dazed smile on his face.

"Sweetie?" River said softly. When he looked up in response, she patted to the space on her bed that had sort of become his, and waited for him to sit down, gazing at her with an expectant smile.

"I need you to know something," River said, taking hold of his hand and playing with his fingers in her palm. "Doctor… we have two babies to look after; I've never done this before, and I need more sleep than you do, so chances are I'm going to be pretty difficult to live with for the next few weeks. I have hormone levels up to here, and I'm going to be upset and angry and sulky for no reason at all. I'll probably scream, and cry, and say all sorts of things to you…" She trailed off with a tiny, strained laugh. "I know that sounds like nothing new, but I… I don't know how well I'm going to cope with all of this. I just need you to know now, while I'm calm and- sane, that… if the whole domestic thing gets too much for you- if _I_ do, then- it's ok if you want to take my parents, and… travel, for- as long as you need to. I know you have been anyway, and I know you will in the future, because you have to, and that's what we agreed, but any time that you want to leave, you can-"

"River," he interjected gently.

"I know what you're going to say, but- this is going to be difficult-"

"Not as difficult as being away from you would be. Or away from them," he added with a fond smile, nodding to the bassinet. "I believe I promised you that you'd never get rid of me."

She looked down at their hands, trying her very hardest not to cry. It wasn't a very successful attempt.

He wound his fingers around hers. "We can do this, River. Together."

She sniffed. "I'm going to be a nightmare to be around, you realise that?"

"That's ok. You can be as nightmarish as you want to be, if it makes you feel better. Shout at me whenever you need to."

"I'll hold you to that." She smiled at him, noticing a new shimmer in his eyes that hadn't diminished since yesterday evening. "There's something else I need you to know."

"What's that?"

She brushed his quiff to one side, seeing those eyes he'd passed down to their children, full of sparkle and wisdom and everything else that made feel so lucky to have him.

"I love you so much, Doctor," she said quietly. "I love you for being here for me, and not giving up on me. I love you for holding my hand and being by my side when our babies came into the Universe. I always will, and I'll always be grateful to you for getting me through this. I need you to know that now, so you can remember it when I'm telling you I hate you and threatening to kill you in a couple of weeks. I promise I won't mean it. Even if it sounds like I do. Well, I might, at the time, but it won't last."

He laughed. "Ok. I won't take it to hearts. Can I… say something?"

"Go on then."

He smiled shyly. "I just wanted to say thank you."

"What for?" she asked softly.

He nodded to the bassinet. "For them; they're the most wonderful, beautiful things in the entire Universe, because they're both just like you. And all three of you have made me happier than I thought I'd ever be." He cupped her face in his hands, peppering her cheeks with kisses and making her giggle.


	42. Amelia's Congratulations

_**A mini chapter; what is written inside the New Baby card that Amy sent to her daughter and son-in-law.**_

* * *

_Dear Melody and Raggedy Man,_

_If someone had told me that by the end of this year there'd be two indescribably beautiful babies in my life, I would never have believed them, let alone that they'd be the babies of my daughter and my best friend. I know it's never been conventional, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You're the best family I could ever have wished for._

_River, _

_When you told me you were pregnant I don't think either of us knew what was going to happen; it broke my heart to see you so afraid, but I knew that you'd be ok in the end, because you always are. Now you've given me the Universe's most gorgeous grandchildren, and you deserve all the happiness that's waiting for you. I know you'll be an amazing mum; you can stay with us as long as you need or want to, and we'll always be here for you. I'm so proud that you're my baby, and I hope that your babies will grow up to be just like their mum._

_Doctor,_

_Above all else, I want to say thank you, because for the last seven months I've watched you look after my daughter so well; you've been so patient and so kind and so hopeful, just as you always are, and your babies are incredibly lucky to have you as their dad. I just know that you're going to be wonderful at this. _

_Elliott and Freya are going to be incredible, with both of you there to guide them; they were made from the best two people I've ever met. I love you all so much._

_Mum/Amelia xxx_


	43. One Reason, One Time

**Note: the quotes (in italics) are from Doctor Who episode Forest of the Dead. You _may_ be familiar with it...**

**Thank you all for the reviews! x**

* * *

Being parents to the last in a long-dead species came with rules.

The poor, lovely midwives at the hospital had suffered from a good dose of Memory Worm; they'd done the whole ward, just to be safe. All records concerning Patient Number 434463, otherwise known as Professor River Song, were collected by her husband and tossed into a supernova on the way home. For all the Universe would ever know, Freya Amelia Song and Elliott Rory Song were never born.

They knew it was necessary; of course they did. But it didn't quell that little empty feeling as they cradled their tiny sleeping children on the sofa the night they came home, knowing that they had to be kept forever secret from the stars.

River's soft laugh drew the Doctor out of his trancelike fixation on their baby girl in his arms. "It's a good thing we didn't have to fill out the birth certificate."

"Why?" he asked, sounding half asleep. Everything felt slightly set apart from reality since their children, as if it was all a deep hallucinogenic daze.

"Well," she whispered, impossibly quiet so as not to disturb Elliott. "For starters, I would have had to put my real name. And Melody Pond is wanted for several intergalactic criminal offences," she smiled. "And secondly, well… we couldn't even have filled out half of it."

He glanced up at her with a frown. "What do you mean?"

She raised an eyebrow half-heartedly. "Name of father?" she reminded him. "You couldn't have put the Doctor; they'd have needed your… real name." There was a barely noticeable moment where her voice faltered before she shrugged it off. "Well, it doesn't matter now."

He knew within a moment what he was going to do. He'd always known; he was glad it had ended up being this way. Not on death's doorstep, not being threatened or tortured as both of them had been too often in their terribly chaotic lives, but in the sweet quietness of his best friends' living room, him and her lost in sleepy throes of love cradling their beautiful new-borns. It was strange how his life had sort of become perfect.

_There's only one reason I'd ever tell anyone my name._

He'd been right, all those years ago; back then he'd hoped more than a little that he wasn't, that it would be something, anything else. Deep down, though, he'd known that it couldn't have meant anything other than what they now had, and it had terrified him to his very core.

_There's only one time I could_.

But as he looked down at their tiny sleeping children, he realised there was no question that it was all worth it. The backwards timelines and horribly messed up lives as a result, the hurt and anger.

He rocked Freya gently; concentrating on all her features which were River's in miniature form to remind himself just how worth it everything had been.

River had thought it was.

She was a mother that day; a mother to his son and daughter. That terrible day had been bad when he'd lived it, but over the years it had gradually grown worse in his memory. She went from a brilliant stranger who'd died in front of him to an acquaintance, to a friend over the years, if friend was the right word. And then in time she was his best friends' baby girl, whom he'd promised to protect, and then she was the woman he loved. He hadn't believed it could have got worse when he married her, and as a consequence in his mind it became his wife who had sacrificed herself. But she had become even more than that, impossible River, who sat next to him now and who still had the day waiting for her where the father of her children would look into her eyes and have absolutely no idea who she was.

But she didn't know that. And she didn't have to.

_Hush, now. Spoilers._

He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, praying to some deity he didn't believe in for that day to be in the very distant future. He needed more time with River. He needed a lifetime.

And a lifetime was what he was going to give her; after everything she had given him, she deserved this. She deserved to be loved and cared for and protected as she never had been. And she deserved to know.

River was still studying little Elliott with a soft smile, not looking up when the Doctor carefully brushed her curls back with his free hand and leaned in close.

His chosen name, The Doctor; that was the promise, his promise to the Universe. His real name had never meant anything- that's what he told everyone, what he always would. But in truth, it meant too much. It meant that he hadn't always been the saver of Universes, the Oncoming Storm, the Mighty Warrior; he'd been young once. He'd been someone's baby, as tiny and helpless as the squirming little creature in his own arms now.

He never told anyone his name because he'd lost that part of him a long time ago, the man who was part of a family; when his impossible Professor had whispered it to him in the Library it had become a promise in itself, that one day he would find it again.

It had been fulfilled now, three hundred years later, and he realised as his lips hovered close to his wife's ear that what he was now doing was to become his promise to _her_, too. A promise that she was his exception, that he trusted her, and that she had all of him.

And so he whispered it to her, as she had to him, making sure it was soft and sweet and perfect.

When he pulled back he watched her brow furrow a little as she tried to wrap her mind around what he had just spoken, her lips silently repeating it. Giving up after a few struggling seconds, she looked up at him with a little shake of her head. "Bit tired right now, sweetie; translating takes brain function that I don't have." She smiled weakly. "What does that mean?"

"Do you recognise the language?"

"Old High Gallifreyan origin at a guess, judging by the syntax and phonology… and the fact that I've just come from the Tardis and it didn't automatically translate."

"That's right." He gave her a sparkly-eyed smile, watching her search his face for clues.

He was sort of grateful that she didn't understand straight away due to her own exhaustion; it was nice to, for once, see her so wonderfully naïve. "I didn't do my study of it in too much depth, given that it was a dead language even when Gallifrey was still here. I only learned "hello sweetie" and a few other… choice phrases," she grinned.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, dear, I remember."

River giggled tiredly, taking hold of Elliott's tiny hand and bowing her head to kiss it. "They have it all in their heads, don't they?" she asked. "They were made with it in them, all the strands of time and space…"

"They were." He traced Freya's little round face lightly, making her snuffle in her sleep and curl her hands into fists. "And they're the reason that… I just told you my name."

River's head shot up, eyes swelling. "What? That was…?"

He nodded.

Her mouth searched for words fruitlessly, tears swimming in her eyes. "I… but, you never tell anyone your name!" she whispered feebly.

He smiled, finding himself echoing what he had heard from her at the Library. "You're not anyone."

River swallowed, her gaze burning into him. "Why? Why would you tell me?"

A dopey grin broke across his face, trying to dispel the tears from hers. "You made me."

She scoffed, recoiling away from him sulkily. "I did _not_ make you! I could easily have made you, but I didn't. I would never have asked this of you."

"But that's the point; you didn't need to ask, because you made me by being the mother to my son and daughter. And I wouldn't have it any other way." Her annoyed and tearful huff made him nudge the side of her head with his nose in an attempt to cheer her up. "River Song, if there's anyone I trust with my secrets, it's going to be the woman I share two children with." He dipped his head to kiss her shoulder. "You know that. There's nothing I haven't told you now."

"I know, but… not _this_. It means so much…"

"Why is that a bad thing?"

River sighed a little, tilting her chin up just enough to meet his eyes. "It's not. I just never expected you to trust me enough." She smiled wanly. "Then again, I didn't expect a lot of things that have happened in the last year."

He hummed in agreement, both of their gazes being drawn to the bundles in their arms.

There was a moment of peaceful silence, no longer full of unspoken words as it had been in the early days. "It's a beautiful name," River whispered eventually, smiling at him when he lifted his head.

"Well. It's no Melody Pond."

She laughed lightly. "We're a real old married couple now, aren't we? We know each other's _names_ and everything."

He chuckled. "I know. Awful, isn't it?"

His wife caught him in a lingering kiss, freeing a hand from their son to curl it around the back of his neck. She kept it there, playing his hair through her fingers when she pulled back to whisper the Gallifreyan equivalent of a declaration of love, uttering his real name softly after it. It had that certain twang when it rolled off her tongue, the one he'd noticed the first time she'd whispered it in his ear- ever so slightly mispronounced in that gorgeous earthy accent, measured and hesitant as her mouth wrapped around the syllables. It felt so wonderful to finally be called his true self that he couldn't quite help but kiss her again.


	44. That Pretty Sound

River cried more in the first days at home more than both of their children combined.

He'd explained to Amy and Rory that she was suffering more than a mother to a human child would, due to the regeneration energy residue from the twins draining her along with everything else. He felt a need to defend her; the sassy assassin who now shuffled around the house in a pair of oversized pyjamas and fluffy socks. Amy found it rather amusing that he, the flailing man-child who either broke or tripped over anything he came into contact with, was the calmer of the two of them.

River worried more than he'd known anyone to. She insisted on keeping the twins in the spare bedroom with them despite the severe lack of space, positioning the bassinet her parents had bought for her next to her side of the bed and spending the vast majority of the day watching their sleeping children. She would soothe them when they stirred, start awake from a sleepy daze at every noise and snuffle, check their gentle double-pulses whenever they were quiet. It was when they awoke that the problems started.

Being the woman who could always do anything, she didn't seem to grasp the fact that motherhood was not something one just learned in an afternoon, like quantum physics or how to pilot a time machine. She burst into tears before bed on the first night because she buttoned up one of the sleepsuits wrong, buried her head in her hands and declared that she was not fit to be a parent, and he hugged her and soothed her for the first of what he suspected would be many occasions.

She was terrified to be left alone with the babies for more than a minute, convinced that something would go terribly wrong. He was more than happy to help her- in fact, to do almost everything, knowing that she needed time to recover. But she wasn't having any of that, and on their first morning at home after a sleepless night she made the decision- without informing him- to attempt parenthood on her own.

It wasn't an entirely successful effort. The Doctor hurtled into the nursery on hearing her desperate cry for help only to find her hovering over the changing mat, one hand holding onto Freya and the other pressed to her forehead.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't _do_ it!" she cried, gesturing with annoyance at the nappy. "I got the old one off and cleaned her up but I just _cannot _get the new one on, ok, it's physically impossible!"

He crept into the room gingerly. "Let me see. Come on, little Freya, let's have a look at you…"

River stood back to let him see to their daughter, chewing her thumbnail anxiously. "I just don't understand, it's all folded wrong and why are there so many tabs and sticky bits and-"

"There."

She stopped, gaping at him incredulously. "How did you do that?"

He pulled Freya's sleepsuit on with a modest shrug. "Well, it's…"

"Easy," she finished with a heavy sigh.

"No, I didn't mean…"

"But it _is_, isn't it? This bit _is_ meant to be easy! I'm supposed to teach them all about the Universe, I'm supposed to teach them how to walk and talk and look after them their whole lives and I can't even change their nappies! Why can't I do this?" she whimpered, tears rolling down her face. "Were my instincts when I found out I was pregnant right? Am I just not meant to be a mother? I knew it, I was built to kill people, not raise them- I shouldn't even be allowed near her!"

"River," he soothed, hearing her scoff when he buttoned up Freya's sleepsuit correctly on the first go. He lifted her gently off the changing mat, rocking her in his arms. "This is only your first full day alone with them; you're not supposed to be an expert yet."

"_You_ are," she mumbled sulkily.

"I'm going on a thousand years older than you."

"Well, maybe you should just keep them, then!" she yelled tearfully. "Just take them away from me and raise them on your own, because you're obviously so much better at it than me!"

"We're not going anywhere," he said calmly.

"No, go on!" She folded her arms sulkily. "You'll all be better off without me."

"We most certainly will not. We're a family," he said quietly. "And as I've promised you since the beginning, that means we're doing this together."

He looked down at little Freya and stuck his tongue out. River laughed when their daughter copied him a moment later, big round eyes studying him intensely, and a curious "Ooh!" came from her at the sound.

"Look! She wants you." The Doctor grinned. "She wants to know who just made that pretty sound. That's Mummy's laugh! Yes, I like it too." He held their baby girl out to her; she kept her arms folded reluctantly until a groan from Freya that sounded for all the world like she was telling her to get a move on made her smile and take her from the Doctor.

It bewildered him how she could think she was failing at all of this; Freya certainly didn't seem to think so, snuggling into her mother's arms and gurgling happily when she found her thumb to clutch.

"I know you're not sure that you're going to be ok. But I am." He dropped a kiss to each of their foreheads, and gave his wife a reassuring smile before leaving her with their daughter.


	45. What Can Dad Do?

If the Doctor did one thing right in his life, he wanted it to be this. He hadn't read all the baby books for nothing, after all. And so he made sure he knew how to do everything in his power to care for his new children and, even more so, his wife.

There was a very helpful and inspiring section in a book Amy had given him; she'd folded down the corners and underlined passages in thick biro, just in case he missed anything. By the time the twins arrived he'd memorised the entire _What Can Dad Do?_ chapter and hoped sincerely that it would be enough.

He tried the steps out one by one; those involving the twins were strangely more straightforward, where he could look after them to let River recuperate. The fact that he required very little sleep helped a great deal, and in truth he loved nothing more than the opportunity to cuddle his son or daughter, kiss their tiny feet and hands and button noses, sing to them or tell them a story early in the morning when they wouldn't settle, let them clutch at his bow tie and listen to their soft coos whenever he scooped them up, greeting him in their own language.

It was looking after his wife that proved the most difficult, given that her hormones were akin to solar flares. Becoming a mother changed her even further than pregnancy had; something which distressed her greatly and also something she firmly believed that he was repulsed by. He wasn't quite sure how to reassure her on all these new insecurities, but he made a silent vow to stay by her side always and completely and do everything in his power to make her smile each day.

His caring attempts sort of had the opposite of the desired effect. He made her pancakes every morning, and every morning when he brought them up to her she'd burst into tears with sheer gratefulness. From this, a routine developed; he'd set them down on the bedside table and climb onto the bed to hug her and wipe her tears away, and when she was successfully comforted he would cut up the pancakes and feed them to her while alternating between telling her just how brilliantly she was doing and just how beautiful she and their children were.

She cried when he ran her a bubble bath. When he went shopping at three in the morning to get some of her favourite butterscotch cake, she positively howled. In the early evening when the twins were sleeping, he would lie on the bed and wait for her to inevitably come and curl up next to him. The tears would start the moment his arms wrapped around her, and he would gently pull her head down to rest on his chest so he could smooth her hair and massage her shoulders while he told her the funniest stories he could think of until she was giggling and calling him ridiculous.

There were magical moments of peace, to balance out all the panicked chaos. The Doctor awoke from a brief dose on their third night at home to find River sitting up next to him, cradling a hushed Elliott who seemed to be transfixed by her.

She gave him a warm smile through the darkness when he sat up and he found himself peppering kisses along her cheeks and nose, relieved to see a calm sort of happiness in her after days of everything else. Of course, there'd been irrepressible joy sparkling in her emerald eyes since the moment their children had come into the Universe, and nothing could surpass the sheer delight that would flood her features when one of them would grip her thumb or fall asleep in her arms. But she was so exhausted by illness and overwhelmed by having the responsibility of having other living people to care for that it too often became clouded, except for in rare moments of stillness such as this.

The Doctor whispered a greeting to his son, shaking his hand gently. "He looks like you," River murmured, smoothing his tiny wisps of fair hair. "He has your eyes. He already has bigger eyebrows than you, though."

"Oi."

A little surprised laugh came from her, making Elliott's lips part in an inquisitive _O_. "It's strange, isn't it? In a… wonderful sort of way, I mean. That they're half you and half me, all squashed into a tiny little soul." She rubbed Elliot's chest gently, feeling the strum of his double-pulse. "I know I've been… well, you know. And it probably doesn't seem like it, but I… I've never been this happy." Her voice wavered and she allowed herself a moment to study Elliott, bopping the tip of his nose softly the way the Doctor always had with her. "I mean, it's… it's different, and it's a huge change, especially for us, and it isn't easy, but… I wouldn't change any of it. They're worth all the tears and pain in the Universe." She kissed Elliott's forehead tenderly, anxiety seeping into her features. "Do you think they know that?"

"Of course they do," the Doctor assured her, tucking her wild hair behind her ears.

"I know they will, just… god, all they've seen me do is cry and lose my temper," she realised with a weak laugh, tilting her head up to gaze at him nervously. "So have you… you've had to put up with all of that for the last seven months, haven't you?"

He cupped her chin in his hand to hold her as he pressed a kiss to the bridge of her nose. "I wouldn't rewrite a minute of it."

River didn't look reassured. "Remember what I said," she reminded him quietly. "If you want to leave, if it gets too much for you-"

"It won't."

She smiled wanly. "You don't have to say that. I don't want you to feel as if you're stuck with me, especially when I'm like this." She lowered Elliott gently into his basket next to his sister, adjusting his too-big sleepsuit and stroking his little rosy cheek to settle him. "I'll… I'll get better, you know. It's just with the pregnancy, and with them; having them here has made me rethink everything I am, but I know I'm not- I'm not really the same woman who married you. But I can be, I will be again. I just need some time, to… get used to all of this."

The Doctor heard the little waver in her voice, that now typical uncertainty.

"River?" he said quietly. When she turned away from their babies with slight reluctance, he shook his head imploringly. "Don't."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Don't fight what you've become. You've changed because you're a mother, and there is nothing more wonderful in the Universe than that." He wound one of her signature curls around his finger, tucking it behind her ear neatly and bringing his hand to rest on the back of her neck. "You _are_ the woman I married, you're just more than that now; you're the mother of my children, and I would do nothing to change you."

Tears had pooled in her eyes during his speech, spilling down her cheeks when she blinked. "Oh, for god's sake," she scoffed, half laughing as she brushed them away hastily and rolled her eyes. "You can't tell me you wouldn't get rid of the hormones."

"I don't mind them." He smiled kindly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Remember the days when I wasn't an emotional wreck?"

River smiled weakly as he bopped their noses together with a grin. "No."

She pulled back, and the way she looked at him gave him the sensation of time grinding to a stop. His wife had many, many looks; over the years he had come to know what each and every one meant, whether he was in for trouble or a treat, whether she was going to slap him or kiss him (although even after a century of marriage, sometimes he still couldn't forecast that). But this one look, the one that turned his hearts into fragile winged creatures, this one was by far his favourite. Her gaze told him that even after a whole lifetime he was still surprising her, still giving her moments where she was reminded anew why she loved him. And he loved that.

"How are you doing this?" she asked bemusedly. "A year ago you wouldn't sit still for two minutes without jumping up, declaring you were bored and running off somewhere. You still went all flailing limbs mode whenever I kissed you; when Amy even looked _sad_ you'd freak out and call for Rory before making a quick exit." She laughed softly, kissing his cheek to lift the frown from his face.

"Well, a year ago _you_ carried at least four murder weapons about your person at all times, insisted on going on dates to war zones because it was "fun", spent a great deal of your free time aggravating hostile species also because it was "fun", jumped off buildings because you felt like it, told me having a family "wasn't for you" and said crying was for "sentimental weaklings"; in those words," he pointed out with a grin. "Becoming a parent hasn't just changed you, you know."


	46. Hatred

**_Thank you so much to everyone who's reading! Not long to go now._**

**_For now, River is having some worries about parenthood..._**

* * *

"I think she hates me," River declared suddenly.

The Doctor actually laughed, much to her irritation. "She doesn't hate you! You're her mummy."

"But she doesn't know that, does she?" River whispered fretfully, looking down at Freya as if she was about to cry herself. "I'm just a stranger who happens to have functioning mammary glands," she murmured in a sulk.

Freya, tiny and peaceful and snug on her mother's chest, was oblivious to the woes coming from above her. She curled a little pink hand sleepily to grasp a fistful of River's shirt.

The Doctor watched her with a dazed smile.

"What's she saying?" River whispered, rubbing Freya's back soothingly.

"Nothing," he answered, his eyes flickering up briefly before returning to their daughter. He realised that in the last week, he had looked at very little else other than the members of his family. It was odd how something could so suddenly become the centre of one's Universe. "She's asleep."

"Oh. Well, it's good to know someone in this family is sleeping."

He laughed softly at her comment, glancing down at Elliott on his own chest. "Don't worry, River. Trust me. You're doing an amazing job."

"They're only a week old. There's still plenty of time for things to go horribly wrong."

He shook his head at her. "They won't. You can do this; I always knew you could."

Her eyes flew up to him nervously. "I still need you!"

He settled the panic in her eyes with his words. "It's a good thing I'm not going anywhere then, isn't it?"

River gazed at him with a grateful smile, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. "Do I look tired?"

His eyes narrowed in concentration, knowing that his life quite possibly depended on the answer that he gave. "You look beautiful," he decided carefully.

He heard the snort that she gave him, and smiled; better than screaming or tears. "Shut up. I'm about two and a half stone heavier, I've forgotten what make up is and my hair hasn't seen a brush for days. Oh, and what's a bed?"

"That's parenthood, sweetheart. You're still beautiful to me."

She lifted her head to look at him, the tips of their noses touching. "How?" she asked quietly.

"Because you're my wife," he smiled. "And you've just become a mother to my children-"

"So you feel compelled to lie about the extent of my ugliness?"

"No; so, there's nothing more beautiful than that. Apart from, maybe, these two," he whispered, looking down at Elliott.

"Softie," she quipped, pressing her nose into his shoulder.


	47. Divorce

"You know, forty per cent of couples get divorced after the birth of their first child," River muttered quietly, rocking little Elliott from side to side.

The Doctor's eyebrows dipped at her sudden remark. "Where did you get that from?"

She didn't answer, looking down at the little sleeping bundle in her arms sheepishly. "You've been… Googling things again, haven't you?" he asked knowingly, hushing Freya softly when she stirred. "Do they have any statistics on time-travelling alien couples?"

"I'd have been worried if I had found any. They'd be higher, though, I imagine; much more complicated, more… restless… right?"

She was giving him that look again, the one which he hadn't seen before that rainy May night but that hadn't relented for more than a minute since. She wanted reassurance, because at every turn she was afraid he would realise just how tied down he had become and struggle free too quickly for her to stop him.

He knew why, of course; River knew him. She didn't seem to know, however, how much she had changed everything he thought he had become.

The Doctor sighed, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not divorcing you. Imagine the complications; we'd have to rip the Universe apart again, and I've got far too much going on at the moment to be doing things like that."

She exchanged his wry smile. "Does that mean I'm stuck with you?"

"I'm afraid it does. Unless we find a free day to make an alternate timeline," he laughed, taking hold of Freya's tiny pink hand when she blinked her shamrock eyes open reluctantly. "Hello, Miss Song! What's your opinion? I imagine you're going to have a lot of opinions on everything when you're older. Just like your mummy." His baby daughter burbled in response, making him sigh. "No, they're _cool_. We've had this discussion several times."

"At ridiculous hours of the morning," River reminded him with a raised eyebrow. "Sweetie, you have to accept that what's cool in your head very probably isn't cool in any others."

He gasped. "Hey- you said at the hospital that you thought my bow tie was cool! I heard you!"

She scoffed. "I was high on gas and air; I said a lot of things."

"If you say so, dear…"

River caught his eye, scowling at the knowing smirk on his face. "I _put up_ with them. It doesn't mean I like them."

"You love them."

"I most certainly do not."


	48. Getting to Know You

**The Doctor gets to know the two new people in his life.**

* * *

It amazed him how quickly he came to know his children.

There were the physical things that he soon discovered; Freya had River's eyes, where Elliott had his. They both had River's golden honey hair, but only Freya's kinked into wispy curls. Despite their little individualities they were remarkably similar, each with rosy cheeks and button noses and cupid's-bow lips.

But it was the other things which fascinated him. Despite being small enough to fit in his hand, they had their very own personalities; Freya had her mother's lungs, undeniably, and would almost always be the first to shatter rare intervals of peace with her demanding cries. Elliott, on the other hand, was most definitely the quiet one. The Doctor always knew which of them was calling for him the moment the cries floated through the walls because his son's was far smaller, more reserved even, as if he was reluctant to disturb anyone.

There were many other things he learned about them. They had some strong form of unspoken bond, or as River liked to call it, The Conspiring Evil Master Plan; on several occasions they would commence crying in the very same second, as if they had agreed to it. When one started first, the other would always follow no more than a minute behind to join in for the chorus.

They liked kicking as much as they had seemed to when they were inside River. Every time he held them they would kick their feet frantically like tiny propellers, leading to many comments on how the desire to run was a family trait.

They loved their mother. It was captivating just how much; how each time she scooped up their son or daughter they would quieten completely within seconds. He knew that it overwhelmed River even more than it did him; the flicker of surprise in her eyes when she succeeded in comforting their children was still noticeable even after two weeks. Watching her learning to be a mother was every bit as truly magical as he had anticipated; the moments where one of their babies would grip her finger tightly and make that new smile flood her features were worth all the stars and space dust that made them. He loved that as well as getting to know two whole new people he could get to know River all over again too, this entire new side to her that motherhood had brought about that caused him to fall in love with her in a different way, but impossibly so much further.

And they loved _him_. He had spent the vast majority of the past fortnight with their children in his arms, but it still did not cease to amaze him every time their cries would soften and they would look straight up at him with their perfectly round eyes. Often River's gentle voice would prompt him out of an adoring trance that he had become lost in for a matter of hours, completely unaware of time itself while he was holding them.

For the first time, he wanted the Universe to stay still, just for a while, to allow him to remain suspended with his perfect little family in a pocket of frozen time.


	49. Phantom Quizzics

_**Even Timey-Wimey parents get overtired sometimes... to intriguing effect. Enjoy! x**_

* * *

Becoming a mother produced some very interesting effects in River Song. They noticed such things after a few days; at first it was little things, but as she became more and more tired it came out in full force.

The development of her new very own language was perhaps the most amusing.

"Well, if she doesn't need feeding or changing, what does she want?" she had huffed, watching Freya anxiously as the Doctor rocked her in his arms in an attempt to soothe her cries. "God, it's impossible to know! It's easier to learn about… phantom quizzics."

"Phantom quizzics?" the Doctor echoed, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

River's head whipped towards him impatiently. "_What_?"

"Do you mean quantum physics?"

"That's what I said!" she cried. "God, you never listen to me!"

He dipped his head meekly, making a mental note that attempting to correct her was futile when she was lost in the throes of severe baby brain. "Sorry."

By the time the twins were two weeks old and Christmas was fast approaching his wife had invented her own logic, set apart from the rest of the Universe. Her new methods were… questionable, to say the least.

He found her one morning trying in vain to put a stick of butter in the toaster, growling irritably when it wouldn't fit and trying to jam it down.

He crept over gingerly. "River, honey, what are you doing?"

"Making toast!" she muttered distractedly, twisting the butter in a disturbingly aggressive manner.

"Right… don't you need bread for that?"

His words froze her, and he watched her eyes trail slowly from the butter-filled toaster to him and back again. It took her around a minute to realise, "This isn't right, is it?"

"Just a smidge not right," he smiled.

She sighed. "I'll go and get some bread…"

When she ambled to the fridge and peered inside it before declaring they were out of bread, he decided it would be a good time to offer to make the toast and steer her upstairs before she was able to protest.

She would start a conversation with him, only to trail off mid-sentence and wander off as if she hadn't actually spoken at all. Other times she would repeat herself several times a day. He saw the sweet side of it, particularly when she complimented his "new" shirt fourteen times in one morning.

"Sweetie?"

He hummed, and smiled when she cuddled into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I love you. I'm sorry I've been too tired and busy to tell you, but I do."

He just hugged her back, not mentioning that she had informed him of this fact nine times since the sun rose.

Amy complained one morning she couldn't find the washing-up liquid; it began a house-wide hunt- even River offered to help once out of the shower, admitting that she was most likely the unwitting culprit for its misplacement.

It was too late by the time Rory discovered it, half empty, on the side of the bath; right on cue River had come out of the spare bedroom, hairbrush in hand, wailing that her hair was all sticky.

She had lost the ability to make tea. Once the Doctor and the Ponds watched her, enjoying themselves far too much as she used four teabags in a row for the same cup, stopping and gazing helplessly into space whenever she got back to the bench as she forgot where she was up to before starting all over again. They decided to stop her when she stirred the revolting-looking concoction with a fork and then added some coffee for good measure.

She complained to him, close to tears, that she'd lost her diary; it was only when he found a melted tub of ice cream in the drawer where she normally kept it that he put two and two together. In less than five minutes he had retrieved it from the drawer in the freezer.

She offered to do a load of washing one morning; when he got his favourite white shirt back, it was a vivid shade of pink. Knowing that revealing his wife's mistake to her would result in either tears or murder, he simply slipped it on without a word.

"Why are you wearing a pink shirt?" she'd asked, about ten minutes after handing it to him.

He'd simply shrugged. "I just thought I'd try it."

"It looks ridiculous."

They never again asked her to put the rubbish out after Rory got into his car one morning to find a heap of black bags in the passenger seat.

"Is this _normal_?" Amy and Rory had asked him after every incident, each seemingly more crazy than the last. He'd assured them that it was more normal than it seemed, as a result of a timey-wimey hormone cocktail. So they had simply left her to be, stifling giggles and occasionally removing electrical appliances from the fridge.

She still managed to lecture him over everything, particularly over their babies, even if clarity wasn't her strong suit.

"You need to put some feet on them or their socks will get cold."

He studied her for a moment, wondering if she'd realise. When she stared back at him blankly, he just nodded and kissed her forehead. "Ok, honey. I will."

She had marched into the living room on multiple occasions with demands that puzzled them all.

"Where are the pancakes?"

They frowned at her confusedly until she clarified, "I need some pancakes to make the eggs!"

"Where's the baby remote?"

"The what?"

"The, you know, the walkie-talkie thing!"

Amy, more than used to guesswork where her daughter was concerned by now, handed her the baby monitor and prayed that she was right.

"What do you want for lunch, River?"

"Do you have any sup-a-coups?"

"Sup…" Rory inhaled slowly, biting the insides of his cheeks. "Yeah. I'll make you one."

"_Doctor_!"

"What's wrong?"

"The microwave isn't working."

"River… you need to switch it on first. There- wait, what's in there?"

"An egg," she answered, looking at him as if he'd grown another head.

"No, you can't- you can't just put an egg in the microwave, it'll explode."

"Well, how else am I supposed to boil it?!"

"You need to put it in water, and- River… is that a _metal_ egg cup?"

She nodded; her innocent emerald eyes reminded him of their children's- utterly clueless.

He reached into the microwave, thanking the stars that he had caught her in time as he retrieved the little egg sitting proudly in its cup.

"What are you doing? That's my breakfast!"

"River, you _can't_ put metal things in a microwave. Not _ever_."

Her hands matted in her hair when she ran them through it. "Oh god, of course you can't! I completely forgot…"

"It's alright. Go back to bed; I'll make you some non-explodey-wodey eggs."

The Doctor caught her trying to peel an apple, and she failed for the life of her to understand why he stopped her.

"But you're not supposed to eat the skin! That's the rule!"

"That's oranges."

"This _is_ an-" She looked down at the apple in her hand, turning it over slowly. "This… I was supposed to get an orange."

She asked for help from him in those weeks more than she had in their entire lives together.

"Doctor!"

Her cry from the other side of the bathroom door as he was passing it made him stop in his tracks. "River? What's the matter?"

"Where's your rod?"

He frowned at the door. "Um, I'm sorry?"

He heard her impatient huff. "Oh, you know! The rod, the stick, with the green light at the end, the metal stick, it goes buzz!"

"Oh, that." He didn't bother telling her the name, knowing how likely it was that in her state she'd forget it within a minute. "Why do you want it?"  
"Because I can't open the door!" she yelled. "The lock won't twist backwards and I'm stuck!"

Having a hunch, he decided to try the handle. Sure enough, it opened without any trouble, as unlocked doors did.

River gaped at the door in amazement. "How did you do that?"

He smiled. "I'm magic."

While her mothering instincts were blooming beautifully, her memory still failed her even when it came to their children.

"He must be hungry," she'd remarked pensively when Elliott's wails swelled through the room.

"He isn't, River," the Doctor said gently.

"How do you know?"

"Because you just finished feeding him; you only put him back in there about two minutes ago."

She frowned at him. "What? No I didn't!"

"I'm afraid you did."

River gaped at him incredulously, eyes glistening. "But… no, I can't have, I don't… I don't remember that!" She held her hands to her head with a groan. "I'm going mad. I'm going _mad_!"

"You're not, sweetheart," he soothed, wrapping his arms around her when she began to cry softly. "You're just overtired and full of alien-y hormones."

"But… why am I like this all of a sudden?" she murmured into his shirt.

"Well, because you've just had our babies, haven't you?"

"Oh… yeah." There was an uncertain pause. "I hadn't forgotten."

He kissed the top of her head. "I know."


	50. First Christmas

**The last chapter featuring River, the Doctor and the twins has arrived! Thank you all so much for reading this story.**

**Meanwhile, those who are good with time among you may have realised that within this fic, which started following River's pregnancy in April, it must be approaching Christmastime by now... and you'd be right! **

**Presenting Elliott and Freya Song's very first Christmas... Enjoy!**

* * *

Waking her up, in hindsight, was a horrible mistake; despite the fact that he lay curled up next to her until the clock had crawled its way to eight on Christmas morning.

"River," he whispered excitedly, shuffling close to her and pressing tiny kisses along her cheeks and nose until her eyes flickered open with a protesting groan.

"Merry Christmas!" the Doctor cried, sliding his nose into her hair to become enveloped in her morning smell.

She used the arm which had been draped across him in sleep to dig him in the ribs feebly. "Doctor, let me sleep," she whispered.

"But… River, it's Elliott and Freya's first Christmas! You don't want to miss it," he said gently, trying to pull the covers back but to no avail. She pulled them over her head as she turned over with a grunt.

"They won't even remember it. Leave me alone."

"River," he whined, cuddling up to her. "It's Christmas! What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" River scrambled to sit up, hair all sprung out of place and creases under her grey eyes. "I'll tell you what's wrong, _sweetie_. I've just had two babies, I've never been so exhausted in my entire life and I want, to go, to _sleep_!"

His brow crinkled anxiously as he propped himself up on the pillows, utterly despising himself when her eyes began to glisten intensely. "I'm sorry," he murmured sincerely, her glare burning into him. "I just thought… well. We've never had Christmas together before and… but never mind, it's ok if you're tired-"

"No it isn't!" she wailed suddenly, tears slipping down her cheeks. He knew that she had never been more liable to such vulnerability; while motherhood had brought out a whole new beautiful side of her, he knew that in her own head she was struggling- uncertain and exhausted and wanting more than a little just to shut out the world.

"River," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head. "Please don't cry. It's ok; you can go back to sleep-"

"I shouldn't be sleeping! I should be having Christmas with my children!" she wailed dramatically, pressing her hands to her face. "I'm such a terrible _mother_!"

"River, stop it. You're right anyway; they won't even know it's Christmas. Come on, go back to sleep, hmm? I'm sorry; I shouldn't have woken you."

He was well aware of that. "I can't sleep now!" she sobbed. It was his fault; she had warned him of the consequences of waking her up, and because of his own stupidity he would now very likely spend the remainder of the year and most of the following one feeling incredibly guilty about making his own wife cry on Christmas day.

She lay down, more out of him forcing her than anything else, and remained in a little snuffling ball as he climbed out of bed and got himself ready. "Stay there, ok?" he instructed as he fastened his bow tie and straightened it determinedly. "I'm going to fix this."

"Just leave me," she mumbled pitifully. "Go and have a nice Christmas. I'll only make you miserable anyway."

"You'll do no such thing. I'll be back in a bit."

Somewhat reluctantly leaving her, the Doctor bounded downstairs to find Amy and Rory with cups of tea in the kitchen.

"Hey! Merry Christmas!" Amy cheered.

"Merry Christmas, Ponds!" He enveloped his friends in tight hugs.

"We were waiting for you!"

"Where's River?" Rory asked, peering behind his son-in-law with a frown.

"Ah…" The Doctor clasped his hands together, face solemn enough to wipe the smile from theirs. "She's a bit down… over-tired, you know; and she won't, um, get out of bed."

"On Christmas Day?" Amy asked softly, sympathy clouding her features. "Oh, bless her; should we just leave her for a bit?" she asked, their voices now reduced to a whisper.

He grinned nervously. "Actually… I have an idea. I need you to help me carry everything upstairs."

Rory's eyebrows dipped. "What? Why?"

"Well… I thought we could bring Christmas to her! The lights, tree, presents, food, everything."

Amy held her hands to her cheeks with a gasp. "Oh, Doctor, that's so romantic!"

The Doctor smiled bashfully. "Well. Come on, come and help! I'll get the tree!"

* * *

It was a rather difficult procedure to haul all of the things upstairs and even more so to squash them into the spare bedroom. The almighty racket it produced made River sit up in bed with a bemused frown, watching as her husband dragged a whole Christmas tree to the corner of the room and her parents followed clutching bundles of presents, fairy lights wrapped around their limbs. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Bringing Christmas to you!" the Doctor announced jovially, adjusting the tree and then wrapping a string of lights around the bedposts.

A disconsolate sigh from his wife made him look up anxiously. "You shouldn't have done this."

"Oh, don't be silly." Amy waved dismissively, placing the presents on the end of the bed and wrapping her daughter in a hug. "Merry Christmas! And it's our first one all together, so we're making it… _fabulous_!"

"She's been on the eggnog," Rory muttered, bringing a weak smile to River's face. The Doctor's yelp as he almost fell over hanging tinsel from the doorframe turned their heads.

"Sweetie, be careful!"

He smiled apologetically, loving that no amount of exhaustion and tears could prevent her from scolding him.

Amy and Rory snuck out once they had finished decorating the room, seeing the tears welling silently in River's eyes as they became fixed on the Doctor. He came to perch on the bed, crossing his legs underneath him. "How's this for a first Christmas, then?" he smiled, brushing her curls back.

"Thank you," she mumbled, brushing tears from her face. "This is so… I don't deserve this."

"River," he argued firmly. "You deserve everything. Ooh! Speaking of which…" He pushed the heap of presents at the foot of the bed towards her. "The ones in the silvery shiny paper are from Amy and Rory, and the ones in the blue paper are from me and the babies. You can… open them later, if you want to," he added reluctantly.

She smiled wanly, seeing the disappointment in his face. "How about I open one?"

The Doctor grinned. "Ok! Open this one. This one's cool." He placed a little rectangular present finished with an indigo bow in her hands.

It turned out to be a delicate necklace, sitting in a blue velvet box; carved in tiny Circular Gallifreyan lettering on each side of a silver disc on the chain were their children's names. "Oh my god, this is beautiful!" River breathed, running the chain through her fingers. "Where did you get this?"

"I made it. I had to buy the molten silver from the Yahara bazaar, but I have some necklace-making appliances in the Tardis. Well. I have… everything-making appliances in the Tardis… do you like it?"

"I love it." She traced the circles in the disc with her little finger. "Their names look beautiful in Gallifreyan."

"Their names look beautiful in any language."

River hummed in agreement, her thoughts drifting to her baby son and daughter. The fact that it was almost nine hours into the day and she had not held them in her arms made her feel sick with guilt.

"You're doing ok, you know."

Her shimmering eyes met his, and he gave her a soft smile. "It's normal to feel this way," he went on gently. "It's a big job, being a parent. But just because you find it difficult, doesn't mean you aren't amazing at it. Which you are." He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Now, you've had Christmas, so you can go back to sleep, and-"

A crescendo of wails next door cut him off. He smiled apologetically. "Maybe not."

Even the sound of their children made tears fill River's eyes. "It's ok," he reassured her in a whisper, kissing the tip of her nose. "I'll go."

"Will you bring them in here?" she pleaded. "I want to see them."

"Of course."

It annoyed her more than it rightly should have that the cries ceased the moment less than ten seconds after the Doctor disappeared. He came back in, having managed with apparent ease to scoop up both of their children and cradling them each with one arm.

He handed Freya and Elliott to her gently, helping her to adjust them so that they could be as effortlessly comfortable in her arms as they had been in his.

"What do they need?" she whispered when they settled.

"Nothing, they're fine. I think they just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas; in their own language."

"Is that what they're saying?"

"No. Freya's wondering what that shiny thing around your neck is, and… Elliott's complaining about his sister waking him up."

She watched her husband in fond disbelief as he studied their children, calming them by clutching their tiny hands in his. "How do you do that?"

He smiled mysteriously. "I'm old. I've had practice."

"I'm old too," she reminded him.

"You're not even three hundred; you're a spring chicken." He grinned. "And I'm assuming you don't have much of an opportunity to become accustomed to children when you're in the highest security prison in the entire Universe."

"Well, that's true." She smiled at Freya's sleepy gurgle. "Don't worry, sweetie. Mummy was completely innocent. Well. For all you'll ever know, she was."

* * *

The rest of the day was what she supposed normal people would call perfect. The Doctor loved the purple frock coat she had bought him, twirling around the living room so that it billowed out around him and vowing to wear it every single day when his tweed one wore out. They ate dinner; Rory came perilously close to burning the house to the ground in the attempt to ignite the Christmas pudding. Her mother finished the eggnog, bought more eggnog, finished that too and fell asleep on the sofa. They folded the abundance of clothes that the twins had received from their grandparents into a neat pink and blue mountain. It even snowed; not enough to settle, but enough for the Doctor to grow ridiculously excited and run to each window in the house like a hyperactive puppy.

It was hours later that she remembered what she'd forgotten; it awoke her in the middle of the night, compelling her to lift her head and whisper her husband's name.

He was already awake, of course; concern seeped into his features on seeing that she was too. "River; what's the matter?"

"I never said."

His brow furrowed. "Never said what?"

Seeing by the hands on the bedside clock that it was just before midnight, a smile crept across her face. "Merry Christmas, sweetie," she whispered, kissing the bridge of his nose.

* * *

_**The end! Endless thank-yous to everyone who's read and supported this. It means the world x**_


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